


Snow Globes

by Renoku



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Angst, Hallucinations, Human Bunnymund, M/M, Mild Language, Pooka Jack Frost, Pooka!Jack, Snow Globes, Species Swap, human!Bunny, nudity (non-descriptive)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-09
Updated: 2013-06-09
Packaged: 2017-12-14 11:03:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 39,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/836188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Renoku/pseuds/Renoku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Jack steals a snow globe rom North that turns him into a Pooka, and Bunny into a human, they have to work out their differences to become friends, and possibly more. And yet there are still eight other potentially dangerous snow globes mounted in North's workshop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Thief in the Night (Prologue)

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my pride and joy, Snow Globes. I originally wrote the first chapter (not the prologue) back in February for Jackrabbit V-Day 2013. I didn't get to expanding it until April. I feel like this fic really challenged my writing, and I'm satisfied with how it turned out. I hope you enjoy it as well!
> 
> Warnings: There is non-descriptive nudity, and North experiences some mildly gore-y hallucinations. There is blood, although I wouldn't say it's a lot. I am tempted to use the Archive Warnings, but I won't unless someone requests it.

Shadows stretched throughout the halls of Santoff Claussen, trailing dark along cream and scarlet walls, and leaking into the floors. The Moon’s light tried to infiltrate through to every recess of the haven, but some corners even he couldn’t reach. And so the shadows grew, connecting to each other with light touches, small experiments that sought companionship with each attempt. And soon they melted together, becoming one, blotting out the harsh white light of MiM’s protection.

A slender figure crept within these shadows, striding casually, yet with an air of caution. Detection was his worst enemy, and so he avoided the light whenever possible. The hooded figure kept to the dark, pressing close to walls and ducking under beams of light, ever conscious of the always-searching Guardian.

Passing before North’s bedroom, the being paused to listen for the signs of life. Heavy, slow, and rhythmic breathing met his ears, signifying the old man’s sleep. Chuckling softly at the unknowing master of the Claussen, the figure moved on, down the many floors, floating almost gracefully past the Globe of Belief, and even further down the into the open-aired cylinder that created the core of the building. Spiraling down through the hallways, keeping even closer to the wall since the Moon shone through the large skylight in the ceiling, the creature finally came to a stop at the door to North’s workshop.

He trailed his fingers lightly over the intricate wood, appreciating the texture. He longed to recreate the same pattern with his own material: the floral designs of Bunny’s markings in the corners, the ridged waves that felt of Sandy’s dunes, the light and feathery grain that mimicked Tooth’s feathers, and the overall rugged craftsmanship that emerged from North’s skilled hands. The figure flinched away as frost began to creep across the wood.

Jack Frost recovered quickly, however, and looked around him once more before pushing the door open.

As always, the desk in the center of the room was piled with different projects. A solid, sturdy ice sculpture, meant to model a new toy set, took up most of the available space. It was a large dollhouse, with detailed patterns lining the walls of all four stories, including the attic. The house appealed to all audiences as well, with an amusement park built into the roof. While the structure was indeed amazing, Jack wondered if, in reality, any parent would stand for such a distraction in the household.  
But the winter spirit knew exactly what he had come for. Creeping around, darting over the patches of moonlight on the ground, he made his way to the large cabinet back up to the wall. One shelf held five matryoshka dolls, one for each of the Guardians. Even though Jack kept the finished copy in his room upstairs, North preferred to hold onto all of the prototypes.

Of course, not all of his prototypes were dolls.

Jack fumbled with the latch on the cabinet door. This particular shelf was smaller, but longer, than the rest, with stained glass obscuring the treasure inside. With a final clunk, the simple lock fell away, dangling from the handle. The doors swung open.  
Lined up in front of him stood nine snow globes, each mounted on a wire stand. The cabinet wall behind the individual globes was inlaid with more stained glass, each of an identical design of different colors. Screwed into the shelf under each globe rested a label, with golden letters etched in Russian. Jack didn’t need to read each one, though, to find his ultimate prize.

“Score,” he breathed, laughing in a slight, dizzy relief as he reached for the globe.

He didn’t bother to lock the door up, simply closing it gently. North hadn’t looked in the cabinet for several weeks due to falling behind schedule by a few days. The chances of him checking up on the prototypes was next to none, and by the time he did think to work on them, it wouldn’t even matter. Jack would be quick as a bunny, and get the Cottontail to help with it too.

The mischievous little sprite tossed the globe into the air as he strolled out of the office, closing the door shut behind him. He caught it in his hand before stuffing it into the pocket of his hoodie. Jack clutched his staff tightly in excitement, and, since the deed was already done with, threw caution to the wind, striding confidently up the floor back to his room. It didn’t matter if the Moon saw him now; there was nothing to see, just a late-night stroll. Jack flew, relaxed, back to his room near the top of Santoff Claussen, rejoicing quietly in his personal victory.


	2. All is One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the original V-Day request, by jackinique (who, ironically, either never saw the fic, or never commented on it). I changed some of the events when I turned it into a chaptered fic, but the majority of it is still the same. It's only the argument that I altered, because the original one sucked. This one is better.

“And I’m telling you, Frost!  You wouldn’t be able to last a day in my shoes!”

The winter sprite snickered.  “Shoes?  You don’t wear any shoes!”

Bunny looked down at his feet, or paws, and then shuffled them in embarrassment.  “You know what I mean!  It’s a figure of speech.”

“Yeah, whatever.  You think my life is so easy?”

“What?  Fly around and throw a little snow about?  Easier than the sugar plum fairy, I bet.”

“And how would you know how easy that job is, huh, Bunny?”

The rabbit’s ears shot up, and a look of annoyance passed across his face.  “It’s a bloody figure of speech, you overgrown ankle-biter!  And as I was saying before, my job is very dignified, and extremely difficult to keep up with.  The only reason I’m even considering this is because Easter just passed, and so I’m on a hiatus.  But even then, I’m very hesitant to even think about letting you give it a go.”

“You’re not even thinking.  You’re just incoherently saying large words.  I can’t understand you through that accent, Bunny,” complained Jack from his perch above his friend.

Bunny gave up, clutching his head in his hands and releasing a large groan to the air.  “Ugh!  Fine, you bloody show-pony!”

Jack’s eye lit up, and he flew down to the cool wooden floor of North’s shop.  “So we’re really doing this?”

Bunny grumbled, “Just throw the bloody snow globe before I change my mind.”

Jack smirked, pulling the round ball out of his hoodie pocket.  With a laugh, he smashed it to the ground between them.  Bunny winced, closing his eyes and waiting for… nothing.  He opened his eyes.

Jack knelt to the ground in confusion next to the scattered shards of glass.  He shrugged, “Huh, I guess I stole the wrong prototype.”

“Wait, you stole this?”

“Well, not really… yeah, I did.  But it’s fine, because it doesn’t seem to work anywa-a-aah!!”

Jack yelped and leapt back as a whirlwind erupted from the unbroken core of the snow globe.  Bunny cried out, but not before the current yanked him in, tugging him quickly around in circles.

“Bunny!” Jack shouted, and he shot forward without thinking, determined to save the poor Pooka.  But he faired no better, falling in beside the large being, tossed around in an endless loop of tumbling and roughly banging into walls.

Jack mashed into Bunny’s fur a few times before he thought to cling on.  Bunny grabbed him tight out of fear, screaming bloody murder the whole way.  Neither of them noticed the changes occurring as they morphed into each other.  But suddenly, they were ripped apart.  They flew towards opposite walls, slamming into the hard surfaces before blacking out.

North entered his private office, crossing to his desk and picking up a red-sprinkled sugar cookie.  He stuck his tongue out in disgust when he tasted moist saliva.  He turned to the desk, and noticed a small foot disappear, followed by a thump, squeal, and telltale jangle of bells.

“Phil!” he roared, calling for his favorite Yeti helper.  “I thought I told you to keep the elves away from my office!”

The large creature burst in, grumbling incoherently, but North understood it just fine.

“I don’t care for your excuses!  Get them out!”

It wasn’t that he was stressed, far from it.  Then again, the snow globe prototypes were not coming along as planned.  And they were two days behind for Christmas.  Even if it was the middle of summer, a few days impacted severely on the schedule, considering they ended up behind every year.  So yes, he was fairly stressed, and the annoying, yet very innocent and adorable elves did not help at all.

Phil continued to grumble exclamations, with renewed urgency in his voice.

“What?  An emergency?”

_Grumble-blargh-snort-aghra_.  The beast accompanied the words with excited gestures down the hall.

“Bunny and Jack unconscious!  And…” North’s eyes widened.  He cursed, rushing to his cabinet.

He opened the door to his snow globe stash.  And the pedestal to the right, two from the end, was empty.  The clear snow globe with a single black core, surrounded by tendrils of light, sand, snow, flower petals, and feathers, was missing.

For a moment, North lingered on it with a shocked horror plastered on his face.  He remained frozen for several seconds, with metaphorical pure ice radiating from his figure.  Even the elves stilled themselves, terrified to make even the slightest move.  Then Phil cleared his throat.

With a roar, North whipped around, drawing his saber from his belt.  Phil dodged quickly for his large figure, and the blade struck the wooden doorpost behind him.  North clutched the hilt until his thick knuckles turned white, and his back heaved as he breathed heavily to regain his composure.

No stress, right?

North stood slowly, jerking the sword from the wooden frame.  He cursed lightly under his breath at the gash left in the antique wood.  He turned to the lead Yeti.

“Take me to them,” he ordered, his voice soft and controlled, almost stiff.  He called out to one of the passing Yetis, one with black fur and grey shoulder blades.  “Marvin!  Get someone to fix door!”

The Yeti bowed, stumbling under North’s tone, and rushed off.  Phil looked at his boss uneasily, and then turned, hurrying to where the two rule-breakers lay.  The trip through the halls took longer than preferred, having to wind up the stairs to the main floor, and then through multiple hallways, up another floor, through the fifth-floor observatory, the Command Room, climbing a spiral staircase to the residential halls, and finally into the glass domed Atrium.

Bunny insisted North build the Atrium after a few visits, claiming the cold North Pole to be too cold for his tastes.  Tropical plant life hung from ceiling pots, vines dragging down and creating screens of greenery.  Other flora bloomed around the room, kept fresh by the climate controller.  A few birds twittered throughout the room, weaving through the forest, calling out to each other; a warning, a sign that something changed, and whether or not that change was good.

North barged through the plants to the center of the Atrium.  The pots were strewn around the room, torn apart by whatever storm raged through.  He knelt on the ground, where the shattered glass of his creation remained.  He cursed again, lightly this time.  Since it was confirmed, there was no point in anger.  Now only worry should prevail.  He looked around through the wreckage, and his eyes landed on a limp, furry form.

“Bunny!” he exclaimed, rushing over.  He knelt down by the stark white Pooka.  “Bunny?”  The ears were tipped with black fur, and his nose seemed a little pink.  “This… this not Bunny…”

Phil called out to him.  North turned, and crossed the room to the opposite wall.  Slumped on the floor in unconsciousness lay a tan figure.  His hair was grey, with streaks of light blue, barely distinguishable.  And the man was stark naked.

North’s eyes widened, but without their usual wonder.  “Hurry!  Get them both to infirmary!”

White waves of snow lined his vision.  Bunny squinted through the haze of sleep to peer at the beautiful scene.  The sunlight sparkled into the room, alighting the snow with a yellow and blue blaze.  It felt soft, and warm, which was completely the opposite of how snow should be, but there was still a slight chill underneath the feathery existence.  As he watched, the glittering pile rose softly with the expanse of sleep.  Bunny sighed, his voice barely audible, and he hugged the warm snow closer to his body.  He nuzzled his nose into the pile, breathing in the scent of fresh water and ice.

Bunny’s eyes snapped wide open.  His arms loosened and fell away from the Pooka lying next to him.  His furless, tan, muscled arms.  Bunny gaped down at them, and then he flowed them to his shoulders, down his bare, sun-kissed chest, and to the edge of the sheets.  His hands shot to his head, and he felt hair, but no ears.  Gingerly, Bunny lifted the sheet, to be greeted with a wholly unwelcome sight.

He screamed, and lurched out of the bed, falling to the floor with an audible thump.  But the dull throb through his bruised body fell mute to the wails of horror emitting from his mouth.  Bunny stood up, looking just at his hands, and screamed, and he looked over his body, and screamed louder.  His anatomy was wrong, very, very wrong.

“Oh my God, Bunny, would you SHUT UP?”

Bunny froze, staring at the mound of white fur that slowly rose from the bed.  The unfamiliar Pooka yawned, muttering.

“I thought that you’d been wanting to sleep with me for awhile, but I didn’t think I was that horrifying in the morni—”

The Pooka noticed his paws, and stared at them for a full minute before any reaction took place.  His hands shot to his head, and he felt his ears.  He leapt out of bed, miscalculating his strength and flopping onto the floor.  He felt his chest, the fur, and looked around himself.  He noticed the black tips on his ears, the only markings on his otherwise snow-white coat.  He felt his face, with its flat nose and furred cheeks.  Finally his hands trailed around and met at his tail.

The large rabbit whipped around to meet Bunny’s eyes.  They were ice blue, clear, and glittered with worry.

Bunny’s breath caught.  Then he stood straight with recognition.  “…Jack?”

They stared at each other for a moment, before they both started screaming.  They stood across the bed and just shouted their horror in one, drawn-out syllable.  Bunny’s hands clutched his head, and Jack pawed at his tail.

Bunny broke off first, “How did you… why are… why are you like that!”

Jack answered, hysterical, “I don’t know!  What happened to you?”

“You have _fur_!”

“You’re _human_!”

“Why are you even in my bed?  What were you talking about I wanted to sleep with you?”  Bunny felt a heat in his cheeks as he cried the words.  His voice faltered, “Did, did we…”

Jack protested, aghast, “No!  What, are you insane?”  Jack winced at his tone.  It was too strong, too obvious.  He quickly changed the subject.  “Why are you naked?”

Bunny looked down at himself.  Damn, he was, wasn’t he?  Blushing furiously now, he quickly snatched the sheet from the bed, and wrapped it around his waist, covering his lower body.  The fabric felt odd; he’d never worn anything before, if you don’t count…

Bunny looked around himself frantically.  “Where’s my bandolier?”

Jack’s back straightened, and he hurried around the room, searching as well.  “Where’s my staff?”

Bunny cursed.  “What the bloody hell his going on?”

The doors burst open, and North fumed in, one of his hands on his saber, the other on the hand, preventing it from being drawn.  Bunny and Jack both froze, and North gestured to the bed.  They sat down and North towered over them.

“You want to know what is going on?  I tell you what is going on.  You,” he pointed at Jack with his saber, which had managed to escape his belt, “robbed me of prototype!”

Jack cowered, and Bunny slapped a tanned hand to his own face.  “That’s what this is all about?”

“I didn’t think it would do this to us!”

“Well why’d you steal it in the first place?”

Jack opened his mouth to respond when North roared, “Enough!  Is bad enough that the prototype was destroyed.  Now you both stuck like this until I make new one!”

“Wait, what?”

North sighed, and sheathed his sword, his anger running out quickly.  “The prototype you stole was to help us.  It would—”

Jack interrupted, “It would let us share out powers so that we could do our jobs better.  All that jazz.  Yeah, I know, and you needed to test it anyway, so I recruited Bunny for the job!  To bad it didn’t work.”

Bunny perked up.  His eyes found Jack’s glinting at him with slight amusement, shining blue and joyful, despite North’s fury.  Bunny’s breath caught, and he stuttered, “W-what?  That was a test-drive?”

North sighed, exhausted with Jack’s stupidity.  “Is not ready for test drive.  I was going to test on Phil and elf.”

Phil, who stood by the door, straightened up and huffed with a protest on his mustached lips.

“I do not need backtalk right now!”  North stood, clearly done.  “Whatever the case, you stuck like fox in trap until I make new snow globe.  I say, about a week.”

Bunny’s eyes widened.  “A week!  I have to spend a week as a naked human?”

North scowled, “Of course not!  You get clothes.”

The accented man rolled his eyes.  “Because that’s a load of help.”

“Good then!” beamed North, oblivious to the sarcasm.  “Phil, get Bunny some clothes while I work!”

And as suddenly as he appeared, North left along with Phil.  The doors swung shut, leaving behind the faint scent of sugar cookies and Yeti fur.  The latter wasn’t as pleasant.

Jack blinked at the door once, his nose twitching in confusion.  He turned his gaze across the room, and Bunny followed him.  Next to their bed, in the small infirmary dorm, laid another, with the white sheets untouched.

Bunny turned his gaze away, back to the door.  North, the cheeky bastard, with his sly tricks.  Or was it really?

“God, Jack, what have you gotten us into?”  Bunny groaned, but the shock of the situation was wearing off.

“So we’re blaming this on me now?”

“Is there really any other reason?”

Jack thought for a moment, before standing up, shaking his head, his new long ears waving slightly, relaxed atop his head.  “For once you’re right.”

Bunny scoffed, “I’m always right.”  He bent over, putting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together.

His eyes shifted to the open window.  The white snow was visible from the window, and the usually cloudy skies of the North Pole remained clear, the sunlight reflecting almost blindingly off the ice.  The shadowed alcove of the window prevented it from entering the room, however, and Bunny stared out at the almost invisible horizon, a blurred line that merged the bluebird sky with the foggy, rugged icecaps in the distance.  It was a beautiful sight.

But the window lack at protection from the occasional wind, and Bunny shivered as a cold breeze drifted past him.

“Oh, are you cold?” Jack’s voice sounded with a hint of concern.

Bunny huffed a quiet laugh, and looked down at his hands.  He brushed his thumb along the back of his other hand.  The rough texture of his skin soothed him, but in such an unfamiliar way when compared to the soft fur of his Pooka form.

He looked back at the winter spirit, who now had snow-white fur.  It looked softer than a down pillow.

“Nah, just a little, mate.  Unlike you I actually needed my fur.”

Without any hesitation, Jack whipped the clean sheet from the unoccupied bed and brought it around to Bunny.  He wrapped the thin cloth around him.  It didn’t help much, as the untouched material lay lightly on his skin, cooled from the frigid atmosphere of the Pole.

Bunny chuckled anyway.  “Thanks, Frostbite.”  He paused, and they both sat in silence for moment, Jack looking nervously at the now-human Pooka before flicking his eyes to his now-overgrown paws, and then looking back up.  Bunny stared at his hands, and eventually cleared his throat, “Why’d you do it?”

Jack flinched at the gentle, yet accusatory tone.  “W-what do you mean?”

Bunny’s head shot up, his emerald eyes meeting Jack’s icy ones.  His breath hitched; the blue was shocking against the white, more prominent than when just his hair framed his face.  “Y-you know!  Why’d you steal the globe?”

Jack leapt from the bed, his hand shooting to rub the fur on his scalp, the old habit from three-hundred years of underdeveloped social skills.  He paced, almost comically with his adolescent Pooka form, tapping his feet with every step.

“I-I don’t know,” he stuttered, “I-I thought…”

The blank expression on Bunny’s face remained flat as he interrupted, “No, you didn’t think.  You never think!  You should have talked to North–”

“I did talk to North!” the sprite exploded, become more frantic, more panicked with his movements.  “He didn’t answer me!  He left me looking at the cabinet, told me to not worry about it!  So of course I got curious!”

“You need to learn self-control!”

“I TALKED TO NORTH!” Jack yelled, completely losing it, losing his final composition.  He faced Bunny, chest heaving from the outburst, paws balled into furry fists.  His back hunched as he assaulted the Australian, but he straightened quickly, trying to regain his calm.  Bunny stared in shock at the bared buckteeth, and the ears laid flat back against his head.  He cowered at the sight of the angry being.  When Jack spoke again, his voice shook, “I-I talked to North… and Tooth… Hell, I even tried talking to Sandy…” Jack chuckled, turning away.  He grabbed his staff from the wall in the corner.  He continued softly, “A fat load of help he gave me, obviously… There wasn’t anyone else I could talk to.  Not about the snow globes, not about…” He trailed off.

Bunny sat straight up, offended.  “What do you mean?  You could have talked to me about it!”

“I even had it all planned out, too,” Jack continued, purposely ignoring Bunny, “And then North told me not to.  He told me he wasn’t finished.  He told me, ‘Go find another spirit to help you.  I can’t until I’m finished.’”  The boy was ranting now, not even noticing Bunny’s presence.  “I didn’t have a choice!  Besides, it wasn’t even stealing, was it?  I was going to give it back!”

“After you smashed it!”

“He could have made a new one!  He’s good at that!  Oh, he’s real good at making new things, and then breaking them!  Just ask him!  Ask Tooth!  Ask them what they said to me when I told them that I–” his voice cut off abruptly, noticing the absurd look Bunny gave him from the bed.

The Australian cleared his throat.  “When you told them that you what?” he asked.  “That you wanted to test out a potentially dangerous object on yourself?  And then what?  Risk your life on a silly experiment?”

Jack backed away toward the door, his gaze cold through the white fur lining his eyes.  His ears stood with a calm demeanor however, as he replied, “Yes, Cottontail, exactly.”  The sturdy towers of clam atop his head fell in despair and a look of hurt flashed across his face.

Jack reached for the door, but they crashed open, Phil barging in with a pile of clothes, shouting incoherently in Yettish.  The creature froze when he saw Bunny, who stood halfway off of the bed, reaching out to continue and console Jack.  He turned to the said winter sprite.  One look at the crushed Pooka, and the Yeti dropped the pile of clothes.  But Jack turned away, shielding himself with his cheek, and walked out the door.

Phil looked over his shoulder at Bunny.  Their eyes met, and he shot the Australian an accusatory look.

“W-what?  I didn’t do anything!  The bloody ankle-biter’s gone mad!”

Phil only grumbled, and he kicked the pile of clothes over to the tanned male.  He left, storming down the hall, calling out what Bunny could only assume was Jack’s name.

Bunny stood, staring at the door, as it swung shut with a thump and a small click of the latch.  He cursed lightly at the confusion, and bent down to examine the clothes.  He picked up a pair of light brown cargo pants, peering at them curiously.  He knew how to wear them, but he’d abandoned clothes centuries ago.

He held them out, and attempted to stuff his foot in.  Once his heel hit the knee of the pant leg, the cloth twisted, and Bunny fought to force his limb through.  After several moments of hopping around, he slipped on the dark green shirt that lay on the floor, and then tripped over the black combat boots laid out for him.  He tumbled over the bed, landing in a heap between the two in the infirmary room.  The pants landed on his face, and Bunny swore as he stood up, brushing off his naked body.  God, how he hated human anatomy.


	3. Memories

He kicked his feet into the air, unconscious of the pale toes as they swung back, striking against North's desk with an audible thump.  His toenails had somehow retained their snow-white and pink hues throughout the past three hundred years, free of any specks of dirt, most likely because he darted trough the air and avoided most areas void of the crystal substance.  His bare heels tapped against the wood repeatedly, the pale skin contrasting with the dark brown.  The desk itself contained the carvings of a master.  The large, intricate swirls bordered the edges of the furniture.  They cascaded down the sides in thick curves, like a soft serve ice cream cone unraveled in a carving.  The ridges rounded off on some, or peaked on others, creating a pattern reminiscent of the winter sprite's frost paintings.

Said frost spread from where the boy's heels tapped against the flat center of the desk's front side.  Each small thump shook the table lightly, but it never wobbled; North put too much effort into his craft for the legs to be even a millimeter off.

Thunk.  Thunk.  Th-thunk.

Chink!

North sighed at the shattered corner of ice as it fell to the floor.  It hit the ground hard, spraying small crystals in a miniature web.  The Russian folded his arms and looked at the damaged dollhouse.  He tilted his head, observing it questioningly.  The right back corner of the roof now lay in fragments on the floor, leaving an open space in the side of the small ice building.  But North only nodded, envisioning another extension, if Jack would help him form more ice.

He peered over and through the clear structure at the young sprite sitting on his desk.  The boy gazed through the cluttered room towards the window, lost in thought.  The light penetrated the stained glass, and a fragment of purplish-pink softness hit the corner of his eye.  The sun reflected off of the ice poured in through the other shards of glass, lighting the room with a warm, multi-colored air, reminding the boy of holly and Christmas fruitcake.  The glow seemed to outline Jack's figure, lighting the tips of his white hair on fire.  His blue eyes were squinted slightly as he stared into the light, but North could see the thoughtful, dreamy gaze the boy held, and the gentle way his thin lips curled at the corners in a soft smile.  His cheeks colored slightly with a rosy red, adding more color to his pale complexion.

North could have groaned; he knew that kind of look.  "Jack," he barked in annoyance, "Could you not kick desk, yes?  Come, help me for moment."

Jack jolted out of his reverie, flinching as he leapt of off the desk.  He landed on the floor, and turned frantically.  His eyes found the injury to the dollhouse immediately.

"Oh, North!  I didn't mean to do that.  I-I-I was just... Lost, for a second there...” The boy trailed off, his gaze drifting back to the window.

North chuckled, forgetting his annoyance in amusement at the sprite's reaction.  "Does not matter.  Come, let me show you."

Jack walked around the desk softly, coming to stand next to the man.  He bent over the dollhouse, observing the broken roof.  He sighed, already causing more ice to form with his breath.

"You want me to fix it?"

North could barely contain his excitement at his mind’s idea.  "No!  I want to change it!"  He laughed at Jack's questioning glance.  "Make roof flat, yes?  Then make big ice on top."

"Flat?  How big do you want it?"

North frowned for a moment.  Then he gestured with his hands, making a fairly large cube in the air.  "Eh, about... This?  This good?"

"That's huge!"

"Bah, is not that big!  It will work."

Jack smiled, "Alright, but don't cry if it breaks."

He hefted his staff up, bracing it against his side.  Not that it weighed a lot, but it made it easier to expel this much power.  Slowly, the bright white mist of his magic flowed out, making the pointed roof of the dollhouse melt into the shape he needed.  It soon became flat and smooth, like a sheet of glass covering the attic below it.  Jack smirked, and shifted his weight, letting an explosion of ice pour out from his staff.  Seemingly unconnected, the block of ice began to form, layer by layer, stacking up in a fluid crawling motion, like a waterfall in reverse.  The spirit swirled the staff like a conductor's baton, laughing as the cube crashed upward in waves, filling the invisible container with sparkling liquid crystal.  Finally, the ice settled, solidifying within itself, and became the base for North's new creation.

Jack lowered his staff with a light huff.  Despite the slight weariness he carried in his posture, a grin plastered his face.  He turned to face North, who clapped his back heartily.

"Good, Jack!  Is very good!"  The Russian cracked his knuckles together.  "Let us begin!"

North set to work.  He took a chainsaw from the tool mount on the wall, and swiftly cut away large chunks of ice that fell to the ground.  Jack quickly dived to catch them.  He opened the window, dispelling the room from its rainbow of color, and tossed the ice out.  The smaller ice shards he left on the ground, although he tried to evaporate them so that North wouldn’t slip.  He spent a lot of energy making sure the foundation of the dollhouse wouldn’t collapse on itself, but it held sturdy enough.  As crazy as he seemed, North knew what he was doing.

As fast as he had started, North put the chainsaw to rest, picking up his chisel from the side of the desk.  He pried smaller pieces from the large hunk, which Jack also threw out the window.  He loved the cold, but he knew it belonged outside.  Already from many years of North’s creativity, a large dump pile of still-frozen ice leaned against the side of the tall building.  Even though his personal workshop resided on the lower levels, the Claussen towered above the frigid surface of the North Pole.  Jack paused to stare down at the pile of forgotten fragments.  He made a mental note to clean them up, sometime.

Eventually, the ringing tap of North's chisel developed a steady rhythm.  It faded to the quiet of the workshop, a much-needed peace that Jack welcomed.  He sat at the foot of the desk, leaning back on it, ready to lose himself again in his thoughts.  He closed his eyes, shuddering at the minor inner turmoil his mind presented.

Exhausted from darting around the room do suddenly, especially after creating North's ice, even for just a short time, the boy felt his eyes fighting to stay awake.  A hum began behind him, North playing a soft, Russian lullaby through his lips.  The melody flowed gently, in time with the light pinging from the ice.  He opened his mouth slightly, the words accompanying his tune, the tongue unfamiliar to Jack's ears.  Despite his frequent visits to the large country, he found the language difficult to learn, only understanding small bits of the song.  The rolled words reached him through his sleepy haze, soothing his mind, and turning it to brighter thoughts.  He yawned falling deeper into weariness.

"You're doing that in purpose, aren't you?"

He didn't have to turn around to see North's smile.  "Who, me?  Never!"

Jack laughed, but then settled down again.  North resumed his singing, his deep voice oddly quiet.  Jack looked back out the window, and at the small flurries of snow that fell from the roof, blowing into the room on the stray breezes.  In his haze, the white flutters changed, connecting by small, white strands.  They darkened, shading to a light grey.  The backdrop of blue highlighted the spaces, creating the deep floral patterns of ancient tribal marks.  Jack smiled, closing his icy eyes, and seeing emerald green behind them.  His body left the cool air of North's workshop, and faded into the warm grasses of the Warren.  He could feel fur between his fingers, but only saw the green, deep green eyes of Bunny.  The rest of his world faded to black, all of his attention on his imaginary fantasy.

A colder breeze rushed past Jack's face, shocking him awake.  Papers fluttered around the room, and the wind became stronger.  Small shards of ice picked up, and North set his pick down in surprise.  Quickly, the tool slid across the desk, falling onto the floor with a loud thump.  The sculpture on the table swayed, and a minuscule crack sounded.

Immediately, Jack leapt up and ran to the window.  He reached out to the swinging glass door.  It waved in the wind, protected only by North's craftsmanship as it slammed against the wall repeatedly.  Jack hung from his waist over the windowsill, his white hair whipping into his face, threatening to slip him off the ledge.  He gripped his staff and held it against the windows’ edges, using it as a handle as he leaned out further. He dangled above the perilous icecap of the Pole without fear. Jack didn't fear heights anymore, and it was one less strength for Pitch to gain.  His thin fingers stretched out into the air, clawing for the latch.  He brushed it with his fingertips, and then pushed forward, fumbling for the fighting handle.  By chance, it hit his hand and he caught it, feeling the cool wiry metal in his palm. He braced his feet against the sill, releasing his grip on his staff to pull with both hands, struggling against the wind.  With a final click, the latch closed, hooking on the edge of the window frame.

Jack stepped down from the window, breathing a sigh of relief.  The glass continued to rattle, battered by the strong wind attempting to break through.  The whole structure of the Claussen seemed to creak, not unusually, but the gigantic icy cliffs and caverns that supported the structure kept their foundation against the sudden forcing tempest.

Jack gazed around the room, bathed in stained-glass light again.  The sunlight poured through, illuminating the wall of tools that began to settle, still swaying slightly on their hooks. North walked among them, stopping and straightening each crooked hanging and propping up the fallen books on their shelves.  He surveyed the damage, turning to take in the entire workshop.  Luckily, the wind only stirred for a moment, and only a single wooden doll lay on the floor, her arm cracked at an odd angle and her blue dress ripped on the side.  North knelt down and picked her up gently, his harsh eyebrows softened over his eyes as lifted her arm.

"Ah, is not bad.  I will fix it."

He carried her over to the desk and set her before the dollhouse.  The tall structure remained standing; the loud crack from before had emitted from the very peak, which only sped up North's work.  North ignored the ice as he pulled out a needle and light blue thread.  He turned to one of the containers along the wall behind him and retrieved a small block of wood.  He undressed the doll, and set to work mending her garments.

As he drew the thread through the fabric, he glanced up at Jack.  The boy stood awkwardly next to the window, still uncomfortable around others, even in this place of hearth.  North looked down again at the dress.

"Unusual, yes?  Clear sky but strong wind."

Jack shrugged, moving to the desk.  "Eh, not really.  It's just a breeze."

"Enough to shake workshop?" North scoffed.  "Maybe the winds warn you.  Wake you up.  For fight!"  The man laughed, head thrown back, yet still didn't miss a beat in his repair.

Jack remained quiet, though, not accepting the joke.  He looked at the ground before him, walking slowly behind North.  He looked down at the doll and brushed his fingers along her broken arm.

North glanced at him again, curious from his silence.  "Is everything well, my boy?"

Jack nodded, but then stopped, changing to shake his head.  "No, you're right.  The wind was warning me."

North nodded, looking down at his flitting fingers.  "Warning, yes... Of what?"

Jack chuckled, turning to lean his elbows against the desk.  "Probably from doing something stupid."

"How you know this is stupid?"

"Because it is.  Just what I'm thinking... Isn't something I should be thinking.”

North arched his brow questioningly.  "And why not?"

"Well, he'd kill me if he found out, for one."

"He?"

Jack slapped a hand over his mouth, falling from his support on the desk.  He hit the back of his skull on the edge.  "Agh!" He sat up and rubbed his head.  He stuttered, "H-he?  O-oh!"  He chuckled, fake to North.  "I was just thinking - thinking that if - if Pitch could see my fears, right now, still, even after we've defeated him..."

North frowned.  "Jack, it has been a year since Pitch Black attacked.  Why trouble over past?”  He paused, pulling the thread through the tear a final time, before getting to work on finishing it.  He tugged at the string, tightening it.  He asked, “Tell me, Jack… why worry?  What are your fears?”

The boy fell against the wall, and slowly slid down it.  He gripped his staff to his chest protectively, his hands curling around the familiar wood.  “I… I don’t really know… losing believers?”

North calmly replied, “Yes, but that is all of us fear.  Something else, hmm?”

Jack took a deep breath, sighing.  The staff dropped to the floor beside him, still in his grip, and he looked up at the ceiling.  The small rafter supports groaned under the wind along with the rest of the building.  The window continued to rattle, on and on, like a dreary fly buzzing in his ear, pestering him to tell his secrets, the little bits and pieces that the wind already knew, but longed to hear again.

North waited patiently for Jack’s response, having an inkling of it, but dreading the words.  He moved on away from the dress; he’d finish the details later.  Taking the block of smooth wood in his hand, he settled his whittling knife against it, envisioning the doll’s arm.  He saw her joints, and the little knob of her hand.  With bated breath, he made the first indention away from his body.  From there, his hands flew over the wood, carving lightly, little by little, almost as delicately as with the ice.

“I think I might be in love with someone.”

The words came short and sudden, surprising North from his working haze.  The knife slipped, nicking his finger.  He gasped, spinning in the chair to face the wall of cabinets.  He fumbled around the assorted containers, searching.  Jack stared up at him questioningly, fearfully, as the man dived into a box of bandages, wrapping his thumb quickly.  North cut off the bandage and then hefted back to the desk.  He places his hands on the table, his back arched.  In one fluid movement, his back relaxed, and he fell back into the chair with an exhausted sigh.

“Love…” he said the word.  It felt almost unfamiliar to his lips, and yet he knew it better than every callous on his hand.  “Lyubit’,” he repeated in his own mother tongue, feeling it roll away into the air.  He knew it, yes, in every child he saw sound asleep on Christmas Day, and in every shining light on the Globe of Belief.  In every creation he made with his own hands, that he poured his care into, and gave each one their promise.  In every misfit, that island so far away that not a living soul could remember, where every lost child fled to in their dreams, he knew that love, that he carried for them in his own heart.  In each of the yetis, and the little elves, and the Guardians that surrounded him, he held them closest, knowing that their love would be immortal, as long as the world needed them.  And yes, he knew it.  In the small, almost fragile being sitting below him, the lonely winter sprite that needn’t know loneliness any longer, he saw it.  He saw his son, and he wished to hold him, but restrained himself.

In that word, North saw the possibilities.  And he knew them, he felt them, and his mind turned to the worst.  Always prepare for the worst.

“Yes…” he said, his voice gruff.  “Love, love is good.”  He spun in his chair, facing the boy that met him with a concerned, fearful gaze.  North smiled warmly, excited in his own worry.  “Who, then?  Tell, tell!”

Jack looked up into the Guardian of Wonder’s blue eyes, hesitant.  His own eyes darted down again as he mumbled, “I… I’m really not sure if I am…”

“Does not matter!”

Jack cleared his throat, coughing, and looked back up at the man.  “Well… It’s – it’s Bunny…”

North reeled back in surprise, not expecting that.  He’d assumed a mortal, like all of the Guardians had at one point, and prepared to warn and assure Jack of the consequences.  But no, this changed things, not mentioning that he’s also assumed a girl to catch Jack’s attention.  Yes, this changed many things.

North coughed, noting the worried look still etched deep into Jack’s face.  The young child, so innocent, and yet so mature beyond his years, still feared the rejection of his friends.  What about the rejection of others that he didn’t know, even still that he hoped to maybe win over?  Yes, Jack feared all of that, not knowing if he’d ever be good enough.

North turned back to his desk, and casually picked up his knife and mildly affected wooden rod.  He set to work, his cuts slower, unhindered by the bandage around his finger.

When he spoke, is voice sounded cautious, warning Jack, “I admit, the annoying rabbit is annoying.”

Jack stood up, swinging around to the front of the desk as he replied, “Yeah, that’s not really news, North.  But… I don’t know…”

North’s lips curled underneath his beard.  “You know he is Pooka, yes?”

“You think I don’t know that?  That’s what’s frustrating me!  Not to mention he’s a guy, who probably has his eye on tons of other girls out there.  Manny knows what he’d do to a girl…”

North arched his eyebrow again, only half focusing on the wood before him as his knife brushed its surface, barely touching the carving in his absent-minded movements.  “You think he is… attractive?”

Jack hesitated, stuttering, “I-I don’t know… I mean, sure, but… he’s a rabbit, for chrissake!  A giant, strong, Australian, serious, manly… attractive… protective… funny… adorable... rabbit.”  The boy looked up at North, who had ceased his whittling to stare at the boy.  Jack sighed, “Who am I kidding, anyway?  Like I said, he’s not into me.”

North leapt up, moving around the desk to grab Jack’s shoulders.  “You do not know this!  He – he might!  Yes, maybe.”

Hope flickered in the boys face, but he quickly pushed North away.  He moved to the door.  “Thanks, North, for supporting it and all, but I don’t want any sympathy.”

“What sympathy?  I no give sympathy!”  North paused, his eyes flickering to the cabinet near the door, about level with Jack's waist.  “Wait just a moment.”

The big man moved across the room, stepping over the shards of melting ice as he did so.  He reached to the handle of the wooden cabinet, bending down to look at his creations.  He spied all nine of them on their wire stands, the thin metal webs shaped specifically for their size.  The amount of power held in each globe seemed to radiate in an aura of dizzying color, invisible to all except North.  He saw the sands and the feathers, the grasses and the snow.  Through these small portals, he felt the warm breeze of the Warren, and the spicy open air of Tooth's floating palaces.  He sensed the grains of dream sand, and the flurries of snow days past.  North reached in and plucked one out, holding the small glass between his hands.

Beneath it's fragile shell, feathers swirled in a gentle breeze, falling though torrents of space.  Wooden teeth glowing with magic collected at the bottom, but when shaken, floated down from the roof like snow.  In the center of the globe, connected by strings to the top and bottom of the sphere, suspended a miniature of one of Tooth's spires.  Little diamonds patterned in tiles, stacking the floors with exotic hues.  Small threads of silver floss pulled taut kept the tower in place, the layered structure emitting energy like a sun.

Jack peered over North's shoulder.  "What's that?"

North carefully brought the ball around to hold it between them.  He looked at Jack through the glass, and said in a cautious voice, almost a whisper, "It is globe prototype.  Very powerful."  A hint of pride slipped into his words, and he continued, "I work on it for a while now.  Maybe - maybe you test it?"

Jack stood, his eyebrows furrowed with mild suspicion.  "Test it?  You mean test it on Bunny?  Well I don't to force him to like me, if that's what you mean.  It's not that big of a deal, anyway.  I'll figure it out myself."  He turned and placed his hand on the door.

North reach out with his free hand and yanked Jack back.  "No!" he shouted, grabbing the boy's shoulder.  "This will make memories visible.  To you, and only you and him.  You... You will see his thoughts."

Jack's gaze hardened.  "His memories?  Thousands of years, and I'll see all of them?"  His tone sounded hopeful, betraying his posture.  However, he continued, cold as the frost on his breath, "I'm still dealing with my own memories.  What makes you think I can stand genocide as well, and then all of the years filled with thoughts of Bunny hating me?  I met him long before '68, you know, and every time we fought.  What makes you think his feelings will suddenly change?  I'm not going to watch millions of stories just to relive this past year for a slight chance of affection."

By this point, Jack stood next to the cabinet.  He snatched the globe from North's hand, ignoring the delicate glass cover, and almost slammed it down onto its stand.  He held it for a moment, though, the possibilities racing through his mind.  But his gripped turned iron, and for a moment North feared it would shatter in his grasp, before Jack released it, gently setting it into its wire home.  The boy stared at the globes, his eyes shifting down the line.  They stopped on a minuscule one, and he glared up at North.

"What, did you make one for all of us?  Issue tiny one supposed to be mine?"

North shifted, clasping his hands behind his back.  "Well, yes... And yes..."

Jack jabbed a finger at the sphere next to his, two from the right.  "And what's that one do?"

North moved to begin, but then hesitated, "It is - it is to help us.  If Pitch were to attack again - which would probably not happen for many more years - and it give us each other's strengths.  We become one, like team."

The sprite's head snapped back to the pedestal.  "Become one?"  He lifted it up.  Even though Tooth's globe was bigger, the small ball with the black sphere in the center of it pulsed with more energy, and weighed Jack's hand down.  Jack peered into it, studying the minuscule snowflakes swirling around with the feathers, and the sparkling sand tangling in the snatches of fur and grass.  An odd light glowed through it, rippling the air with mirth, and even the scent of sweet, warm home, the smell of the Claussen, wafting from its surface.

A ridiculous, half-baked plan formed in Jack's mind.  "Can I use this one?"

North just stared at the child, and then threw his head back with a laugh.  "Use that?  On Bunny?  You are crazy, Jack!  Look at what love done to you!"

Jack shot him a glare.  "Just a minute ago you wanted me to meddle with his mind!"

"Yes, but this is far more dangerous!"

"And making him relive the genocide of his race isn't?  I can't believe you."

"Jack-"

"Enough, North," Jack interrupted as he set the globe back on its stand.  "If you need me, I'll be at Tooth's."

"Jack, wait!"

But the winter spirit already shot to the window, throwing open the latch and stepping up onto the ledge.  He gave North a final glance over his shoulder, before he tipped over, out into the open air.  The icy surface of the Pole rushed up at him, but he felt no fear.  He blinked frozen tears from eyes, the liquid making the wind bite his cheeks.  The breeze tried to push him up, urging him to return to North, but Jack took control this time.  At the last second, he righted himself, and found an invisible support in the air.  He pumped his legs, leaping away into the clear blue sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, by the way, this entire chapter was a flashback to Jack still being human.


	4. Toothiana's Palace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is in present time. (But still past tense.)

At night, Southeast Asia glowed with gentle candlelight throughout the mountains.  The lines of pilgrims crossing the treacherous rocky paths lit the runway for Jack’s flight.  They climbed the steep trails, determined with the force that pushed their own beliefs on.  The soft flickering of light illuminated Jack’s pale fur, catching it on the breeze as it floated around him.  When the wind whipped through Jack, the hairs all over his body drifted as if underwater, without the aftermath of sticky clumps of tangled mess.

Jack followed the procession of lights below him through the twisting cliffs, tailing the solemn march in his own silence.  Breaks in the line sent the night air into darkness, bathed in a gentle blue against the bright moonlight.  Often, small pairs of lovers and companions accompanied each other on the trek, guiding their ways to their goal.  And even more common, Jack spotted the lone wanderer, challenging his life against nature in hopes to seek enlightenment.  On most visits to the area, Jack dipped down into the caverns to assist these lonely travelers, making sure the wind worked in their favor, just to give them a meaning to their journey, and not a death.

But not tonight, not when he blinked frozen tears from his face, too scared to lift his paws to wipe them away, as if ignoring their existence would make everything normal again.  As if he could forget the stupid decision he made weeks ago, during the Moon’s last cycle.  When he had cried to Tooth, asking her for solace, and yet she gave none, only denying his feelings away into the wind again.  Jack wanted to forget.  He wanted the snow globe to repair itself, to see its black core suspended in empty space, orbited by its particles of life: of memory, hope, wonder, joy, and dreams.

He broke off from the trail of light to fly away into the dark caverns.  He weaved through the many cliffs and hangings, the rock formations towering over him.  Finally, he fell down beneath the torn cliffs, seeing the brilliance of a city hanging down, floating motionless in its aerial trance.  Tooth’s Palace, with its many spires and pillars, towers nearly scraping the cavern roof, became Jack’s safe haven in times like these.  The fairy always welcomed him like a best friend, keeping him safe and giving him a shoulder to cry on.  Jack needed the comfort almost more than he needed the wind to carry him.

The boy faltered in his flight, sniffling as the sobs began to erupt in his throat.  He gasped, trying to keep them in, but he lost focus on his control as he descended.  He bobbed in the air, coughing with the shuddering cry as his feet hit the landing platform.  He stepped once to steady himself, but tripped, stumbling over his overgrown paws and landing in a heap.  The motion reminded him of his first flight since being resurrected, and another rack of pained memory hit him.  He crouched, and brought himself back onto his feet trying to keep his balance with the dizzying migraine in his head.

Suddenly, a glint of metal flashed out in the lanterns from above.  A rush of hummingbird wings met his large ears, and Jack flinched as he felt a cold blade against his throat.  A small hand held his arm behind his back, sharp nails digging into his wrists, and the feathery body pressed against his.

The light voice hissed in his ear, “Who are you, and what are you doing here?”

Jack gulped, choking on his voice.  The tears lined the edge of his eyes, disappearing into his fur.  “T-Tooth…”

The woman released him with a gasp.  “Jack?”  She rushed to the front of him, throwing the short dagger away.  The wicked blade glinted in the firelight, the curve reflecting the glow eerily.  The crown of feathers atop Tooth’s head fell from their defensive stand, softening in with the concern on her face as she reached out to place a hand in Jack’s cheek.  “Jack, w-what happened to you?”

What happened?  Jack nearly chuckled through his tears, which quickly turned to a light sob again.  “It’s – It’s B-Bunny…”

Tooth’s expression fell.  “Say no more.”  She took his large paw in her delicate fingers, leading him to the edge of the platform.  She knelt to lift the dagger in her hand when she passed it.  She waved it carelessly in a gesture to Jack.  “Sorry.  I’ve been taking precautions since… you know…”

They leapt of the edge, Tooth supporting Jack as he struggled to regain his focus on the wind.  The warm air of the Palace rushed through them both, and they landed lightly next to the large jade-colored water basin.  Across the water, the painting of Tooth and her first believers gleamed with its renewed energy.  The mark of her Guardianship depicted the people presenting their teeth in their cupped hands, her fairies whizzing around them in the air.  The texture of the stone gave it the impression of age and wear; only sensible considering the thousands of years the mural had survived.  The light from above reflected off of the water’s surface, sending patches of pale blue and thin yellow across the picture.  The cherry blossom trees wavered above in Jack’s wind, and stray petals flew over the top, landing softly on the water.  Without the slightest ripple, they sailed, creating the serenity of Tooth’s beautiful home.

But the fairy still kept Jack’s hand, leading him away across the water.  The boy stepped on the basin, frost forming under his paws.  He walked along with Tooth, keeping her companionship, calmed from his tears for the moment.  They reached the opposite bank, and then continued to walk around the second blooming tree, circling the rock base in which it planted itself.  The pair stopped in front of a smaller side pool, deeper than the other.

Tooth released Jack’s hand to raise both her own.  She lifted slightly on her wings, the feathers on her crown standing tall.  A strange light floated from the bottom of the pool, and a staircase emerged, step after step, leading down into the basin.  The pale stone magically held the walls of water at bay, and Tooth beckoned for Jack to follow, starting down into her personal quarters.

Jack hesitated, as always, nervous of the water surrounding him.  At first, he’d questioned Tooth’s living arrangements, considering her preference of flight, and the spacious amount of rooming in the seven pillars of her palace, but she declined, stating what she thought to be obvious.  “There isn’t any room in those towers, Jack.  Each of them holds a Library of Memories, for the teeth!  All of the other boarding goes to the fairies.”  It didn’t matter, though; she liked her cave.

Jack stepped down into the darkness, but the end of the tunnel lit up with bright paper lanterns hanging from the ceiling.  The staircase closed behind Jack, a protective seal covering the entryway to prevent water from leaking through.  It slid shut with the quiet grinding of stone against stone, a gentle noise that soothed Jack’s aching head.  He looked around the large circular room he now stood in.  The lanterns above him lit the room well, casting light into every crevice.  Tooth took no chances with the shadows anymore.

Large beanbag cushions lay around the room, strewn in random positions to be dragged in place when needed.  A large chocolate brown table occupied the center, atop a Vienna hue rug, decorated with the floral designs of the Libraries of Memories.  The rounded petals lined the borders, fading to angular diamonds in the next layer.  From there, the markings turned to the arrowheads of Bunny’s tattoos.  The table occupied the rest of the rug, but it didn’t matter, as Jack had averted his gaze, feeling his headache starting again.  His face began to feel numb, and so he quickly stumbled over to one of the cushions and pulled it up to the table.

Tooth emerged from the kitchen, a room behind one of the many arched doorways lining the circular walls.  She carried a tray of tea, the ceramic pot also designed with the same patterns as her rug, only just the petals around the rim.  She set down Jack’s favorite teacup in front of him; one that he’d become attached to in the past year, with his many visits to her palace.  Blue flowers spotted the white cup, similar to his frost, yet different in its spring air.  Looking at it reminded him of Bunny, sending a wave of sickness through his mind, but he remained silent as Tooth poured the steaming jasmine tea into it.  She took her own cup, matching the teapot, and raised it to her lips, blowing gently.

She took a hesitant sip before setting it down on the table.  She eyed Jack with a concerned gaze, and finally asked, “Okay, what happened?  Why are you… furry?”

Jack sniffled, and wiped his nose on his wrist, then recoiled away from the white fur.  He looked up at Tooth pitifully.  “R-remember last month?  When I came here?”

Tooth nodded; how could she forget the sprite’s distress?  “Yes, you were mad about North.  About the snow globes, was it?”

“Y-yeah… he had one that would make Bunny and I review his memories, and then I asked if I could use a different one, but he’d said no…”

Tooth gave him a withering look.  “And this was because…?”  She knew the answer, but Jack needed to say it himself.

“Because it was dangerous…”

“And…?”

Jack cowered in his own thoughts, pushing the tea away.  “I’m sorry, I’m not really thirsty right now…”

“Jack, what did you do?”

“I… I…” he stuttered as the tears began to well up in his eyes again.  Suddenly, he burst into sobs, throwing his head back and baring his buckteeth, before collapsing onto the table.

“Jack!”  Tooth pounded on the table in frustration.  She stopped herself, and then fluttered over to Jack’s side.  She abandoned her tea to put her hands on his shoulder.  “Jack, come here…” she soothed as she pulled him into a gentle embrace.

The boy’s muffled cries sounded from her shoulder.  “I-I didn’t mean too!  I didn’t k-know w-what I was d-d-doing!  I didn’t th-think that it w-would – would…” His body became racked with sobs, and he buried his face deeper into Tooth’s shoulder.

The fairy stroked his back gently, studying the soft white fur between her fingers as she repeated to him, “Shh… Shh, Jack, it’s going to be okay… Shh… calm down now…  It’s okay… It’s okay…”

Jack pulled away from her, wiping his nose clean in his fur, nodding.  Tooth held him at arm’s distance, smiling softly in reassurance.  She spoke again, “Now, why don’t you tell me what happened?”

Jack nodded, and Tooth picked up her cup of tea, settling back into another cushion.  Jack began speaking, his voice shaky, but calmer, “I-I didn’t listen to North, or you.  I… I took the globe.”

Tooth’s eyes widened.  “You stole it?”

“No!  Well… y-yes…  And I used it on me and Bunny, and now…”

“Oh, Jack!”  Tooth sat up, her wings fluttering.  “I told you not to!”

“I know!  I know you did!  It’s just that I didn’t know what else to do!  I had to do something, but you and North wouldn’t help me!  And I… I love him…”

“Jack,” Tooth sighed, “Just because we love someone doesn’t give us the excuse to do something stupid.”

Jack shrank in his seat, grabbing his staff off of the floor and holding it defensively.  “P-please don’t be mad…”

“I’m not mad, Jack…” Tooth said as she reached a hand out to the boy’s face.  “I just wish that you’d have listened to me.”

“B-but you said that I needed to give up!”

“No, Jack,” Tooth shook her head gently, “I said that you needed to be patient, and not hope too hard for something that was only a possibility.  By move on, I meant be okay with it if Bunny didn’t like you back.  It’s too late now, though, I suppose…”

The Pooka sat up straight, eyes wide and panicked.  “Too late?  What do you mean too late?”

“No!  I meant it’s too late to stop you from doing something stupid!  That’s what getting over him would do!”  Tooth put a hand to her forehead, and then looked up at Jack through her fingers.  “So you’re both stuck like this, then?  For how long?”

“North said about a week.”

“Well, that’s not too bad…”

Jack shook his head.  “But now Bunny will hate me!”

“What makes you think that?”

Jack raised his cup of tea to his lips.   He took a hesitant sip, before setting it down again.  “Well… he yelled at me when I left…”

“And that’s why you came here, right?”

“Yeah… I mean, he called me reckless, and stupid, and then accused me of only stealing the globe to test it out without North’s permission…”

“Well, you deserved that.”

“I know!  But he didn’t even try to listen when I was going to tell him that I liked him!  He just stood there, acting like the stupid kangaroo he is, telling me off and not letting me finish!”

“Jack, would you have even told him?”

The boy remained silent for a moment, before shaking his head.  “No… I couldn’t tell him that.”

“Then what did you think was going to happen?  When you came here last month, you told me that you loved him, which really didn’t surprise me, but then you started talking about the snow globes.”  Tooth paused, recalling the conversation, before continuing slowly, “Jack… what was your plan?”

“I,” he began, stumbling over his words, “I don’t know.  I just… North said we’d become one with our powers, and I thought that I could finally give him something.”

“Give him something?  What do you mean?”

Jack took another sip of tea, trying to avoid chipping the glass with his teeth.  He sighed, “He has so much…  He’s strong, smart, and creative… he can be nice if you know him well enough… he’s really attractive…  What do I have to offer to that?  I didn’t have anything, except being able to fly and throw snowballs.  And now…”

Tooth set her tea down and grabbed Jack’s shoulders.  “Jack, what are you talking about?  Any guy or girl would be lucky to have you!  You’re cute, and funny, and you’re kind…  Don’t say that about yourself!  You have a lot to give Bunny!  Honestly, you could teach him how to loosen up once in awhile!  He thinks he has all this work to do,” Tooth let Jack go as she began to rant, “Please, he only has one day of the year that he really has to work.  I work every night and get barely an hour of sleep, not that I need it, not to mention that half of his work does itself, with the little eggs running around and painting themselves with the flowers and that River.  My workers are constantly on overdrive.  The only reason I have it easier now is because of Baby Tooth, who takes charge when I’m not around–,” she stopped suddenly, noticing her ramblings.  She paused, then, reviewing their conversation in her mind.  The memories replayed explicitly, and she saw every reaction of Jack’s to his own words.  She started, softly, “…This isn’t just about you, is it, Jack?  You knew what the globe would do.”

When he remained silent, staring into his tea, Tooth placed a hand underneath his chin, lifting it up to meet his eyes.  “Jack, you’re uncomfortable with it, aren’t you?”

Jack hesitated, and then nodded.  He looked down at his tea again, and Tooth released his head to let him speak.  “It’s just… he’s a bunny… and I’m… human…”

“But you’re not uncomfortable with the fact that he’s a Pooka.  Otherwise, you wouldn’t have knowingly turned yourself into one.”

Jack suddenly stood up, pacing.  He swung his staff carelessly, and Tooth cringed at the frost beginning to layer on the rug.  It wasn’t the first time, but she hated worrying about the damage that could happen, even though the frost melted quickly.  She controlled herself, however, and let Jack speak.

“How could he love me?  I mean, he probably thinks I’m gross as a human!  You should have seen his reaction when he’d changed.  He looked nearly sick when he saw himself.  I mean, I was surprised the globe actually worked in the first place, but I had to act scared as well just to seem normal!”

“Well of course he was scared, Jack.  He didn’t know what the globe would do.  What did you tell him it would do?”

“I told him we would change our powers, but not our species!  I thought it would make us understand each other or something, so maybe he wouldn’t look at me and think I was disgusting.”

“Jack, he doesn’t think you’re disgusting!”

Jack stopped, blinking, and then turned to Tooth.  “He doesn’t?”

“Bunny loves humans.  If he didn’t, then why would he still be here guarding them?”

“Yeah, but does he think about them in _that_ way?  I don’t think so!”

Tooth had no answer to that.  She kept quiet, looking down at her tea.  She hated Jack’s stubbornness, but it only served to connect him closer to Bunny.  She didn’t despise the idea of them as a couple, and actually thought they would be a good one, but felt skeptical at Bunny’s emotions.  Unlike Jack, Bunny hid his true feelings down in his Warren, where he rarely emerged from to show himself.  Even now, when she saw him more often, he remained inside that Easter egg shell.  And yet Jack claimed to know him, even through their constant arguments and disagreements.  He understood the Pooka’s pain the most, after all.

Tooth sighed, not knowing what else to say.  “I think that you and Bunny need to talk.”

“I’ve tried talking to him!  He just doesn’t listen!”

“No, I mean you both need to sit down, and talk about everything.  For a while.”

Jack groaned, no longer devastated, but annoyed.  “I guess you’re right.  Okay, I’ll go find him, then.”

Tooth stood, grabbing Jack’s staff out of his hands.  “Not tonight, you aren’t.  You are in no state to confront Bunny right now.  You’re going to get some rest, and then go talk to him tomorrow.”

“Hey, give me my staff back!”

“Nope!  You’re coming with me, rabbit.”  Tooth grabbed his sensitive ear and tugged gently.  Jack flinched, and followed obediently, trailing behind Tooth to one of the other doors.

They walked into her bedroom; also circular in shape, only larger than the one they’d just left.  The domed ceiling opened to a skylight, giving a view of the water underneath the main basin.  Jack saw the edge of the cliff that held Tooth’s painting, and noticed the cherry blossom hanging over the pond.  Even higher, some of the Palace towers hung in midair, and beyond that, Jack saw the cavern roof, and the stars that peeked around it, all tinted a jade color from the water.  Metal bands wrapped around the ceiling, crisscrossing in a pattern reminiscent of the North Pole, supporting the glass dome and keeping the water from leaking in.

“It’s beautiful,” he breathed.

“You like it?  North helped me make it when I met him.  Even though I’ve lived here much longer than he has, a lot of my personal living space is his design.”

She led Jack to the large bed, made neatly with pink and purple sheets folded on top.  Royally colored pillows covered the circular mattress.  Jack gazed around the room, noticing the pictures on the wall of ancient times, grand palaces, and locations around the world.  He tripped over the rug, tumbling onto the bed with a huff.

Tooth whizzed around the room, tidying up little details, such as the tilted books on the bookshelf that curved along a portion of the wall.  She picked up toys, placing them in multiple chests, and then turned to file a few papers away on the desk.  Overall, the room was organized to perfection, but Tooth fussed over every flaw.

“Oh, I’m so sorry about the mess!  I took a nap in here earlier and then I cleaned the sheets while some of the minifairies played.  I forgot to clean up after them, and usually they’re so good at picking up after themselves, but oh, I think I need to pay more attention to them when they’re done so that everything’s back where it was.  I thought I had that file over here, why is it there?  Oh, where is that diagram for that new floss I was going to give to North?  I bet he was only going to give it to the naughty children; he never takes any of my ideas seriously… Oh, where are those diagrams?”

Jack laughed, flopping down into the cushioned bed.  He hugged a pillow to his chest, drowning out Tooth’s ramblings.  “Goodnight, Tooth,” he called, closing his eyes.  Exhaustion overtook him, and he fell asleep almost immediately.  His last thought before unconsciousness took his mind was of Bunny, and Sandy took his cue out in the night air to weave a dream of warm days in the Warren.

“Ha! Here it is!  I knew I had put it somewhere, but why was it under these plans for sugar-free Pixy Stix!  Why do they call them that anyway?  That’s not even how you spell pixie!  I should tell Bunny to change that; it’s really not a good candy name at all.  Hey, Jack, do you think that it’s a go–” she stopped, noticing the Pooka asleep on her bed.  She sighed dreamily, drifting over to him.

She sat next to him, brushing the fur out of his eyes.  She loved Jack as a best friend, but his youth made her see him as her son.  She was old, far older than he could ever imagine, and she noticed.  She sighed, moving her fingers down to his lips.

In a flash, she pried his jaw open, careful not to wake the sleeping boy.  She laughed, poking at his teeth, admiring their rabbit-like qualities.

“Oh, they’ve changed too!  I think I liked your other ones better though.  Oh, and you’ve flossed!  You have no idea how many kids don’t floss today.  It really is a shame.”

She froze when Jack stirred, pulling her fingers from his mouth.  The boy rolled over, mumbling adorably of his dream.  He hugged the pillow closer, his nose and whiskers twitching against it.  His ears flopped down over his face, and his leg thumped once before becoming still again.

Tooth giggled.  “Goodnight Jack,” she whispered, leaning down to peck his temple.

She stood, and made her way to the door.  She prepared to give Baby Tooth a break and head out on her own collection.  As she opened the door to the surface, her thoughts turned back to Jack’s predicament.  Her mind wandered to the North Pole, and she saw clearly in her memory the cabinet that Jack described.  Nine snow globes.  She let the rare curse slip past her lips, wondering what North’s thoughts consisted of.  The King of Thieves never really lost his title, did he?


	5. Brittle Springtime

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One thing I want to say (and sorry for the abundance of notes) is that writing the yetis' dialogue was probably one of the funnest things I have ever done. Please pronounce them phonetically.

With his bandolier strapped safely across his chest, and his arm guards pulled up against his rough forearms, Bunny strode through the hallways of the Claussen like a king.  He kept his shoulders back, looking straight ahead, a deadly seriousness flashing in his emerald eyes.  The sunlight breached the icy windows, warming him, but only barely in the cold climate of the Pole.  Shards of ice lined the building, as if a blizzard passed through daily.  Then again, one did, the winter spirit known as Jack Frost tearing through, causing who knows what sort of mischief.  Bunny gritted his teeth, his straight, shining white human teeth, at the thought of the boy.  Oh, the words he had prepared for him.  But other matters came first, the most important being that collection of snow globes North allegedly stashed away, unbeknownst to the rest of the Guardians.

A beam of light bounced directly off of a sheet of smooth ice frozen into the wall, another souvenir left by Jack’s antics.  As Bunny passed, his reflection appeared in full detail, but he paid no attention to it.  He’d already fussed over his new human form already: the wavy, blue-grey hair that swept back from his forehead, exposing the tribal markings of his people, a dark blue against his deeply tanned skin.  A hint of stubble, on the verge of becoming a beard, grew from his chin and jawline, streaked through with lighter grey against the bluish shade.  His cheekbones accentuated his blazing green eyes, giving him a glare deadlier than his sharpest boomerangs.  His thick eyebrows shadowed this expression, putting even Pitch to shame.  No words existed to describe the rage seething underneath his taut, built muscles.

The yetis cowered out of the way of the man as he passed, leaving the usually intimidating creatures as harmless balls of fur in his wake.  They stared after him, their eyes wide, turning to each other and grumbling questions through their mustaches of what may have caused Bunny’s mood to turn foul.  Only one held the answer, keeping his lips shut as he huffed annoyance through his fur.

Phil also stormed through the hallways searching for the Australian, ready to give him a piece of his mind.  After leaving Bunny his clothes, Phil had rushed after Jack, but the boy had already flown out of the nearest window, and by the time the yeti arrived, the boy was nothing but a speck, nearly invisible in the clear blue artic sky.  And so Phil needed someone to blame.  North told his lead Yeti everything, and he knew about Jack’s feelings for Bunny.  Phil grit his teeth, ready to slam into the rabbit’s face.  His fur seemed to stand on end, puffing with anger.  The memory of the tears shining in the snow white Pooka’s eyes sent red through the yeti’s vision.  Despite the multiple break-in attempts on Jack’s part, Phil developed a soft spot for the boy, like a little brother he needed to protect.  And a certain Australian now topped his hit list, without any say in mercy available.

“Ablarghba!” the yeti shouted, approaching North’s workshop, referencing the tanned male approaching from the opposite direction.

“You!” Bunny called back, just as ticked of as the yeti.  “Took you long enough, you bugger.   Where the hell did Jack run off to?  I wasn’t finished telling him off for stealing the bloody globe!  Honestly, when I get a hold of him…”

“Argrabaha?  Blurajah gremin harvanagh!”  Phil stood aghast, and stopped in front of North’s door, thrusting a fat finger into Bunny’s face.

Bunny flinched back at the appendage, raising a guarded arm in surprise.  “I did what?  You know what, I think you’re off your rocker!  This whole place is bloody mad!  How did I hurt Jack?”

“Hrablaghrah!  Ilfragbra malfrin tonghreni!”

Bunny scoffed, “You weren’t even in the room.  I didn’t say anything to the kid.  And even if I did, he deserved it for getting us into this mess!  Now, I’ve got to talk to North.  Don’t you have some toys to go repaint?  Again?”

“Grivinmagh, Bughewa,” Phil threatened, bringing his face close to Bunny’s.

The Australian wrinkled his nose at the smell of yeti fur.  Yes, he loved Phil like family, albeit the distant relative kind of family, but he’d stuck his moustache into Bunny’s belongings – Bunny froze, his face going slack for a moment, but he twitched, quickly snapping out of his shocked haze.

He replied evenly, “Or what, mate?  You going to step on me with those overgrown feet of yours?  Because I’ve got ankle-biters just waiting for a victim, and you’re on that list.”

Phil stood straight, almost satisfied, “Abrajaha.  Jubingnefarh.”

Before Bunny could give another cocky reply, the door slammed open, and North exited, fuming.  He stood, towering over even bunny, his beefy arms showing off his Naughty and Nice tattoos with intimidating strength.  His beard bristled with anger, and he glared at the two, who froze immediately, almost cowering.  Bunny resisted the urge to turn tail and flee.

The Australian cleared his throat, and began to speak, “North, we have some serious business to discuss.  You have been–”

“Enough!  I do not need more arguing.  I know why you are here, Bunny.  Phil, go repaint toys or something!”

“Arbahgraba?  Blargrahmaghrama!”

“Go!” North waved him off with an annoyed gesture, dismissing his lead yeti carelessly in his anger.  Phil huffed, but understood, and left the scene, shooting his smug Australian opponent looks to kill.

Said Australian looked up to North with a light chuckle.  “Thanks, mate.  He was getting real hard on my arse about something I said to Jack.  Don’t know what he was talking about–” Bunny froze at the cold glare he received from his friend.

“Bunny,” North ordered gruffly, “come in.”  He tilted his head for Bunny to follow him, and reentered his workshop.

Bunny hesitated, and stepped forward slowly.  He closed the ice and wood door behind him, searching for the familiar warmth of North’s hospitality somewhere.  But the fire in the hearth behind his desk remained unlit, with papers scattered across the wooden surface.  On the second worktable, the ice sculpted dollhouse-amusement park stood adamant, moved out of the way from its own home to make way for North’s problems.  A cold chill hung in the air, separate from the cool atmosphere of the North Pole.  Bunny edged away from the door, his anger nearly dispersed by apprehension of the man crossing the room.

North fell into his chair, leaning against the sturdy wood and propping his elbow on the armrest.  He clutched the bridge of his nose in apparent exhaustion, but then looked up at Bunny.

“Sit down,” he commanded with a quiet tone, gesturing to the chair in front of the desk.

Bunny obliged, after a moment of deliberation.  When North took the role of supreme leader, he rarely listened and only spoke.  But Bunny knew the charade, as well as the condition of absolute acceptance, no matter how frustrating North became.  So he sat, lower in his chair than the high ruler of the North Pole, and stared at his black combat boots, understanding Jack’s distaste for footwear.

Bunny’s eyes softened visibly from North’s point of view.  The old man noticed the Australian’s back relax as he looked to his feet.  He saw the annoyed, quizzical smirk that took his face, and then the way his fingers tangled in his lap.  They fumbled with each other in a nervous dance, different from the frozen intimidation that North caused in these moods.  North’s frown deepened, not so much with distaste, but annoyance at how ridiculous the situation evolved.

“You are thinking of Jack, no?” he asked casually, his finger trailing on his lower lip in a thoughtful expression.

Bunny snapped out of his dreamland, and stared at the man.  “What?  You mean Snowflake?”

“Snowflake?  Why he is ‘snowflake’?”

Bunny visibly blushed, his tanned skin taking on a copper hue.  He curled his legs together, and his shoulders dived into his body, creating the innocent, vulnerable look of being flattened.  He looked down at his hands, now rigid in his lap, clutched together for dear life.

“I-It just slipped out – he’s got to have a few good nicknames, right?  He’s called me plenty,” Bunny stuttered.

North leaned back in his chair, satisfied at the discomfort that he’d caused.  “Why you are thinking of Jack?” he asked in an amused, knowing tone.

“I don’t know, alright?” Bunny snapped, evading the question.  “I’m not here to talk about the ankle-biter.  I’m here to ask why on earth you’ve been making these snow globes behind my back!”

“Behind your back?”

“Behind all of our backs!”

“I have done no such thing!  Why must I tell you when I make new toy?”

“New toy?  You mean you planned on giving these out to kids?  You saw how that turned out when Jack got a hold of one!”

“Ah, but that was not right prototype.  He stole that one.”

“What?  You gave him another one?  Mate, I think you’re a bit gone.  The kid’s going to wipe out the Pole at this rate!”

“Have faith, my friend!  I offer it, but he refuse.”

Bunny perked up in his seat, moving his elbows from his knees to the armrest.  “Really?  Guess he’s got a lick of sense after all.  Why?”

“Because he did not want to hurt you,” North stated simply, standing up and moving across the room.

The man approached the cabinet holding the globes, and bent down.  Bunny tensed, looking over his shoulder from his chair.  North’s large form obscured Bunny’s view into the cabinet, but he knew already the contents.  He didn’t expect the globe to contain a miniature Library of Memories however.

“What the bloody hell is that?” he exclaimed, turning completely around in his chair.

“This,” North said, tossing the globe haphazardly into the air, “is Memories.”  He caught the ball smartly as he finished and brought it over to the desk.  He sat back in his chair and stared into the glass sphere, before continuing, “It is designed to review memories of target.  Not able to pinpoint specific, but still let leader view memories also.”

North threw the globe across the table to Bunny.  The Australian fumbled to catch it, barely stopping it from shattering on the floor.

He breathed a sigh of relief before turning on the Russian.  “Have you lost your mind?  If that broke–” Bunny cut off, realizing the intended ‘target’ to North’s carelessness.

North smirked.  “You see why Jack felt against it.”

Bunny lifted the globe to his eye level and peered in.  He studied the wooden teeth in amazement as they settled on the floor of the ball, and the incredible detail put into the arcs of the dominating spire.  The miniscule diamond tiles etched into the stone created the perfect mosaic, the individual floral designs radiant in the stone.

Bunny glanced up at North before looking back down at the imitation of Tooth’s powers.  “He was going to use this on me?”

North hesitated, before starting, “Well… not exactly.  He never considered it.”

“Then what…” Bunny stopped, and his glare shot up to North, emerald eyes narrowed to slits.

In a flash, Bunny shot up from his chair and simultaneously reached behind him.  His fingers found the smooth wood of his boomerang, and he gripped it firmly in his palm.  It slid neatly from its sheath, and found its fatal position beneath North’s neck, the deadly tip less than an inch from the big man’s Adam’s apple.  The Russian didn’t even flinch, and met Bunny’s angry gaze.  He saw the hint of fear, and it showed through the trembling, tight muscles of his arm.  His hand that held the globe disturbed the wooden teeth once again, but they soon drifted back down to their shaky support.

“You – you – How could you?  I-I thought… What were you thinking?”

North leaned forward, setting his elbows on the desk and resting his chin on his knuckles.  The point of the boomerang pressed into his skin, a single bead of blood dripping down the center of his neck.  Bunny tensed, ceasing the shaking of his limbs.

North replied coolly, “I thought in Jack’s best interests.”

Bunny gasped, tears pricking the edges of his rage.  “My memories… they only hurt, North.  I’ve tried so long to forget them.  How could you ever put that on someone else?  Especially Jack?”  He broke his contact, and looked away, back to the globe in his outstretched hand.  “There’s a reason Tooth never looked at my teeth.  The Sheila never even edged to put her fingers towards my mouth.  Even she knew she couldn’t handle it, not with the pain of watching everyone die, and being alone for so long.  For years, I’ve run away from it.”  Bunny turned his gaze to the ceiling, and then tilted his head over to meet North again, the strongest look of despair itched into the grieved wrinkles outlining his eyes.  “I thought we were supposed to protect the children of the world, North.  How could you?  This isn’t you.  How could you even think to do that to Jack?  Our Jack?”

“You mean your Jack.”

With those words, North pushed back from the desk and turned to the drawers behind him, searching for another bandage.  Bunny recoiled from an invisible force, and clutched his weapon until his browned knuckles turned white.  He collapsed into his chair, his fist going slack.  The boomerang clattered to the floor, hitting the ground in slow motion, thumping out each beat of the wood in a light harmony of painful defeat.  The snow globe hung from Bunny’s fingers that created a thin net, supported only by a breath of air.  He gently held on to it like a final shot glass, with the booze already lost, but the agony still present in his mind.

“He’s… He’s not mine…”

“Why do you say that, Bunny?  Why deny feelings inside?”

“There are no feelings–”

“Yes, there are.  You know it.”

“Well what can I do about that?  He’s a child!  I can’t just claim him as my own!”

“He’s lived far longer than any child could have, Bunny.”

Bunny’s grip on the snow globe tightened, trembling, before he relaxed again.  “I don’t even know if I care about the kid enough for that.”

“You care about him, though,” North stated as he stood, wrapping the bandages around his neck.  “I check on yetis.  Put Memories back when finished.”  As he passed Bunny, North placed a hand on his shoulder, barely a brush, but enough to give the blessing of a father.  “Pain is understood by everyone, Bunny.  Jack understands your pain the most.”  The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Bunny alone in the workshop.

For a moment, Bunny just stared down at his empty glass, seeing the memories lost in his relief.  Unfortunately, his relief only relived his misery.  His body began to shudder in renewed grief.  Bunny grit his teeth, grinding them loudly at the pain inside, giving into the instincts that carried to his human form.  Silent tears, cold and clear against his skin, streamed down his face.  A gasp escaped his lips, but he pressed them closed again.  The small, quiet crying of the weakened man echoed through the empty workshop, lost in the frozen sculptures that towered around him.  The silence pressed in, magnifying every shuddering breath, every effort to stop, but nothing could prevent the release of misery and confusion from his heart.  The drops pooled from his chin, and fell in solemn victory, finally free from the contours of a hollow mind.  As feeling rushed through Bunny’s head, he looked at the salty liquid splattered across the surface of the globe in his hands.

He spun the globe slowly in his fingers, staring at it curiously through his tears.  His gasps faded to small hiccups as he looked down, studying the alcoves hidden in the sides of the small model.  Each indent held an old memory, ready to be filled with Bunny’s own.  Maybe it was time to revisit the past, and stop running away.  He gripped the glass tight in his hands, letting the newfound emotions take control of him.  Right at the breaking point, right as the ball strained to hold together, Bunny felt the tension leave his body.  The glass nearly shattered in his hands, but Bunny relented, sitting back up in the chair, letting his arm fall to his side.  His other hand raised up to wipe his red eyes.  He sat like that for a while, just thinking, just seeing the frost and ice covering the ceiling above him.

Bunny sighed, and stood up, waiting a moment to regain his balance.  He crossed the room to the cabinet North mentioned, and opened the wooden doors gently.  He stopped, staring at the arsenal of dangerous experiments in front of him.  Two empty stands stared up at him, gaps in the line like missing teeth.  Bunny placed Memories down in the wire support furthest to the left, filling in one.  His emerald eyes drifted to the other.

Two globes stood on either side of the metal skeleton.  The furthest globe to the right caught his attention first.  He reached for it, picking it up gently in his hands.  A small oak tree dominated the area within the glass ball, with roots planted into the miniature plot of earth that formed a small hill in the lower half.  The branches of the tree fanned out, light shining through springtime leaves, sending tinted rays of light down through the sphere.  Tall grass grew around the tree, obscuring most parts of the miniature meadow from his view.  But he saw clearly the light grey rabbit that dozed in the artificial sunlight.  It laid flat on the ground, relaxed in a utopia of eternal rest, until needed.  God, the Russian was off his rocker for sure.  After a moment’s hesitation, Bunny tucked the globe safely into his bandolier, not knowing what possessed him to do so.  It belonged to him, technically, as it contained his power, right?

The globe to the left of the empty stand stood out next.  The smallest sphere of the lot, yet it almost radiate the most power, in Bunny’s eyes.  As he looked at it, a small smile formed at his lips.  The tiny ball, barely larger than a marble, contained only a single crystal snowflake that spun on a free axis within the globe, each of its six angular arms touching the glass.  It rotated rapidly with a sort of playfulness, and Bunny couldn’t help but laugh as he thought of the sprite.  His breath caught; did he really like Jack?  Or did he see the Guardian of Joy as no more than a highly adorable brat?  Either way, Bunny knew what he needed to do, even just to satisfy North’s persistence.  But Bunny still reached out to take the small marble of a snow globe, and slipped it into a buttoned pocket in his strap.

Before Bunny closed the cabinet, he took one more look down the line.  His eyes paused again on one more: a black globe filled with shadow, with flecks of gold scattered through.  The powers constantly fought, balancing each other out with flashes of lightening and whirlwinds.  But overall, the wispy shadows clouded the sphere, dominating the small space.  The sand only kept the explosive fear at bay, and Bunny edged away he saw the fog pressing against the glass, struggling for release.

A vision flashed across his mind: images of Jack, lost, alone in a blizzard.  They shifted to the empty Warren, so barren without eggs, without flowers.  Tooth, her feathers molting, North, the Claussen crashing down into the ice below, and Sandy, the memory of his accepting his fate, shot with the arrow of Pitch’s design, closing his eyes and letting the nightmare take control of him.  And finally, a racking pain pierced through Bunny’s injured mind, and he heard the cries of his people, and the screams of the helpless children.  He felt the emptiness of walking through the Earth as a ghost, with no one to believe in him.  He saw that final light on the Globe of Belief, and with that mocking snap of Pitch’s fingers, the belief went out.

With a yelp, Bunny slammed the wooden door closed, dispersing the visions from his mind.  His chest heaved as he struggled to regain his breath, and he gasped at the workshop around him.  The shelves rattled from the force of his crashing, but Bunny ignored it.  He heard nothing from inside the cabinet, and so stood up, breathing hard.  He looked around himself in fear.

North’s senile age, for a human, finally seemed to be catching up.  Bunny grimaced, and tapped his combat boots on the floor twice.  His powers still worked, and a tunnel opened up.  It was time to visit Jack.  Bunny dropped down into the hole, which closed up behind him, leaving the signature Aster calling card behind to sprout from the floor.

* * *

 

The moonlight framed Tooth's bed in a halo of blue, shimmering protection.  The water above the skylight sent the beams down in ripples, distorting the image of Jack's sleeping form like an illusion.  The light bounced around the walls in a kaleidoscope of filtered beauty, centering on the figure in the large bed.  The Pooka's chest rose and fell slowly with the gentle force of dreams, sustaining his peace, for the moment.  Jack's nose twitched softly, his whiskers quivering with imagined excitement.  His foot shook twice, kicking the air, and his teeth ground together softly, making a purring noise of contentment.  A content smile spread from his lips, alighting his snow-white face like an angel.

The earth next to the bed shifted, a low crumbling noise churning beneath the surface.  The dirt fell away, opening the exiting end of Bunny’s tunnel.  The dust fell off into the dark in a small landslide surrounding the ring.  Out of the tunnel came a huff, and Bunny’s tan form shot out with a yelp.  As he fell, the hole closed back up, and the Australian landed in a heap on the floor.

Jack sighed, whimpering at the disturbance, and rolled onto his back.

“Ah, damn,” cursed Bunny, rubbing his backside as he sat up.  “Took longer than I thought, not being able to run.  Stupid tunnels making me go faster; I might as well have taken the bloody sleigh…” He continued to mutter before trailing off, looking up at the bed.

Bunny stood, and made his way to Jack’s side.  His eyes softened at the young Pooka, noting the messy clumps of fur sticking out at odd angles.  He watched his chest rise slowly, before falling again.  Jack’s paw reached up to brush through the fur of his stomach, and Bunny chuckled at the innocence the boy revealed while sleeping.  He hated to wake the child, but needed to nonetheless.

Bunny knelt down on the purple and green blankets, and reached out to Jack’s ears.  He knew how the sensation felt, so he tugged gently.  “Oi, Frostbite.  Wake up!”  Jack shifted uncomfortably, and batted Bunny away, his content knocking teeth grinding heavily for a moment.

“Hello, Sleeping Beauty, your prince is here…” Bunny muttered, teasing the sleeping spirit, shaking his shoulder.  Jack didn’t respond.  “I really don’t feel like doing this…”

Bunny reached to the side and hefted a large pillow that covered his entire chest.  He brought it above his head, the purple satin straining against gravity, held only by its corner in the air.  With a loud grunt, Bunny brought the cloth hammer down on Jack’s body.

“Oi!  Snowflake, wake up!  We need to talk!”

Jack’s eyes shot open, and he flung the pillow from himself immediately, and then began thrashing around in surprise.  His limbs became tangled in the sheets, and Bunny couldn’t help but dissolve into laughter.  Jack sat up in his ball of fabric, pouting drowsily at the Australian that continued to fall off of the bed.

“God, Bunny, you couldn’t have just shaken me?”

Bunny pulled himself back onto the bed, wiping tears, happier ones, from his eyes.  “I tried.  You were out harder that the princess on the pea, mate.”

Jack scoffed, and then started nervously, “You could have tried kissing me.”

Bunny laughed despite the sudden pang in his chest.  “Nah, mate, that wouldn’t have been as fun.”

“Since when do you like fun?”

“I always have fun!”

“No, you really don’t.” Jack reached out from the mess of sheets, finally free from his silken chains, and grasped his staff.  He held in his lap, sitting cross-legged on the bed as he gave Bunny his attention.

“What do you mean by that?”

“You’re here to talk, right?  See, it’s never just to hang out, or to have a snowball fight with you.  It’s always serious business.”

“How do you know I’m here to talk?”

“Why else?”  Jack looked away, finally breaking his contact with Bunny’s smirk.  “You want to know about the snow globes, don’t you?”

“North told me about his offer.”

Jack looked back up at the human, shocked.  “He – he told you?”  Jack stood, drifting above the bed; his hind paws barely brushed the high ridges of blankets and cliffs of pillows.  He made his way off of the bed, before lighting down on the floor, the pads of his feet treading softly on the ground.  “Bunny, I…  Did he tell you I refused?”

“Yes, he did.”  Bunny folded his arms across his chest, fixing the boy with a stern gaze.  He knew the concern he felt, though.  “Why did you?”

Jack ceased his pacing, and gave Bunny an incredulous look.  “What else would I have done?  There’s no way in hell that I would ever put you through that again.”

Bunny pressed on, “Put me through what?”

“Your past.”

“What do you know about my past?”

Jack hesitated, before replying, “You know…” He gulped, trying to find the words.  “How Pitch hurt you, and how you are the last of your kind…” He stopped, not wanting to continue.

Bunny nodded, satisfied.  “Yeah, Pitch killed them off.  But how do you know this?”

“Excuse me?”

“I’ve never told you about my past, and I know I told North never to speak of it.  Who told you?”

Jack’s hands wrung his staff protectively, anxiously.  “Tooth… I asked her…”

“You asked her what?”

His head rolled on his neck, the momentum pulling Jack away from Bunny’s questions.  “Do we have to talk about this?  I’m sorry about stealing the globe, okay?”

“What did you ask her?” Bunny continued, undeterred.

“I asked her about you, okay?  That’s all.”  Jack looked back over his shoulder.  His blue eyes were hesitant, threatened, and Bunny felt the urge to stop and comfort him.  But he needed on more question answered.

“Why are you so concerned about me, Jack?”

The sprite stopped, frozen, like his name implied.  “I-I…” he stuttered, not sure how to answer, “I just want to make sure you guys are okay.  I mean, it’s been more than three hundred years, and I don’t know when you’re upset, or if you’re just thinking.  I wasn’t sure if you always seemed sad, or if it had something to do with Pitch.  And now it turns out it had to do with both…”

Bunny stood, making his way to grab Jack’s shoulders.  “Snowflake, I appreciate you worrying about me, but I’m not sad, not anymore.  I haven’t been sad since…” He trailed off, looking into Jack’s face.  The boy’s appearance as a Pooka seemed nice, the fur neatly groomed, even with the bedhead effect.

Jack shied away, but then he met Bunny’s green eyes, and froze, pulling away from Bunny’s touch, and yet falling into it.  He leaned forward, captivated by his hypnotizing gaze.

The door suddenly opened, and the pair turned to see Tooth standing in the doorway, shocked.  Jack dropped his paws, shuffling away with his staff.

“Jack – Bunny, what are you doing here?”

Instead of words, Bunny reached into his bandolier for an egg grenade, just in annoyance for the interruption.  He grabbed the smooth object and hurled it at Tooth.  As it sailed through the air, Bunny’s stomach dropped.

The Springtime globe from North’s cabinet shattered at Tooth’s feet.  The fairy flinched out of the way, but then peeked through her finger at the small, grey rabbit that shook itself from its sleep.  Tooth’s muscles relaxed, but only for a moment as the bunny suddenly perked up.  It leapt into the air, twisting into a playful binky, before diving into the ground.  It burrowed like a drill, dirt shooting up from the indentation, before a sudden explosion of plants erupted from the small indentation.

“Bunny!” Tooth screamed as the plants overcame her.  Bunny ran to the wall that quickly spread, green vines curling up to the ceiling and fanning out quickly, like a fast-growing parasite in the air.  They wrapped into the walls, forming a solid barrier.

“Tooth!  Are you okay?”

Tooth raged from the other side of the wall, “Bunny!  You’re going to have to fix all of this!  What did you even do?  And why did you wake Jack up!  The last thing he needs right now is more yelling!”

Jack spoke up, “No, Tooth, it’s okay.  We were just talking.”

“Like hell you were just talking!”

Bunny laughed, kneeling over.

Tooth’s enraged, protective voice echoed through the vines.  “What’s so funny?”

Bunny shook as he clutched his stomach.  He choked out through his gasps, “Nothing, just some great irony there.”

Suddenly, the vines and branches browned, turning brittle like rust in a natural material.  The weaker leaves began to crumble, raining down onto Bunny’s head.  Bunny backed away, right in time as well, as Tooth’s fist shot through the wall.

Her head appeared in the newly made hole.  “You’re going to have to clean this up, Bunny!”

“You’re the one making a bloody mess of everything!”

Tooth grunted, clawing away at more of the weakening wall.

Bunny chuckled, looking back at Jack.  “We’ll continue our conversation later, alright Frostbite?”  He gave the kid a wink, before thumping his boots twice, and falling into the earth.

Tooth broke free, crashing through the wall.  “Bunny!  Don’t you leave!  Get back here, you stupid rodent!”  But the tunnel already closed up, leaving the mocking Aster flower bobbing up at the angry fairy.  “Drat, he’s gone.”

Jack cleared his throat, fighting back a laugh himself.  Tooth shot him a look, before turning back to survey the damage.  The vines dug into the walls, but thankfully didn’t puncture the ceiling above.  One of bookshelves cracked down the middle, however, completely demolished from its support on the wall.

“So what did you two talk about?” Tooth asked nonchalantly, holding back her annoyance.

“Not what you wanted us to, if that’s what you were hoping.”

Tooth sighed, “Oh, Jack…”

A glint on the ground caught her eye.  Among the brown, dried leaves, vividly green sprigs scattered throughout the piles.  Tooth knelt down, and gently sifted through them, and the picked up a shard of glass.  She fingered the clear fragment curiously.

“Jack, what’s this?”

Jack’s eyes widened, and his ears pressed flat back against his head.  Then he cursed, chuckling slightly under his breath.

“And the kangaroo accused me of stealing.”


	6. Fearlings & Nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This is the chapter where North's hallucinations start. They are just a little bloody, but I don't think they're that bad. Still, though, just in case...

A few days later, North opened the door to his workshop softly.  The wood scraped gently against the ground, reminding North to fix the hinges.  But first he needed to fix the broken doll, fix the rattling latch on the window, and attend to some repairs up in the Globe Room.  He patted the scar on the doorpost, left by his saber in a sudden fit of rage, brought on by the mysteriously devious disappearance of a prototype snow globe.  He mentally added the deep gash to his repair list, remapping the delicate carvings in the back of his mind.

He turned to the rest of the room, sighing before walking to his desk.  He slumped down into the chair, looking down at the plans on the table.  Of all his problems, this one took priority, although he almost wished it didn’t.  The blueprints showed the inner structure of the All is One globe, the sphere that changed Jack and Bunny’s species.  It took North ages the materials, and yet he still lacked some of them.  A pile of feathers sat on the corner of his desk, saved from the multiple visits Tooth made to the Claussen.  Next to them, clipping of Bunny’s fur created a contrasting mix to bright pink flower petals.  The snow he could retrieve from outside, and Sandy offered to give him a little dreamsand.  But he still needed to capture the Wonder, somehow.  If only he could create enough, but even with his center, North lacked the ability to materialize it.  He needed help from Manny.

He picked up the black core of the globe in his hand.  Its energy kept the globe spinning, giving each element its power.  MiM created it; sent it down on a Wishing Star to North a month before he thought of the globes.  And so North didn’t hesitate to create the globes, knowing Manny supported his actions.  Now, however, after its single use, the core remained dormant, weighing no more than a ball of ice, and as cold, too.  North feared it might even melt, glad he lived in such a cold climate.

With a grunt, he set it down, and bent over the plan.  He wanted to perfect it this time.  Glancing over at the shards of broken glass, he pitied the globe’s fate, wishing it could have lived to see a second use.  However, he needed to focus.  Back to the blue grid paper on his desk, he studied the components that made the core work.  Even with his eyes of wonder, the contents of the small black rock remained hidden to North.  With the moon’s cycle just passing the new moon, two weeks remained until Manny’s powers returned in full strength, enough to restore the core.  But North didn’t have two weeks, at least not if he wanted to avoid another boomerang at his throat.

His hands found his neck, where the light scar from his cut just began to fade.  The scab felt rough under his calloused fingers, and he shuddered at his behavior.  He’d pushed Bunny too far.

But the rabbit, or human, now pursued Jack, or at least North thought so.  They confused him, more than even the elves.  Jack wished so much for Bunny, and North knew this, yet the boy made no effort besides stealing the globe in the first place.  Bunny, on the other hand, became nervous, blushing consistently through every conversation, not able to look Jack in the eye, spare the occasional, delusional moment.

The rattling window latch began to shake at the wind outside, loosened in its lock from the tempest Jack created that time.  The glass began to clatter, shaking the colored beams of light throughout the room.  It persisted like a mosquito, buzzing in North’s ear with uneven knocks, and small taps when small hailstones fell from the roof and bounced off of the sturdy barrier.  The rattling latch carried on and on, breaking North’s already distracted focus.

With a groan, he pulled himself up from his chair and brought his screwdriver to the window.  He clutched the small latch in his fist, and attacked with the tool in his hand.  After a moment of fumbling around, he pulled away, satisfied with the now silent and firm latch.  He tested it, unlocking the window.  In a flash, the wind pulled it away, and it smashed against the wall outside.  North cried out before lurching out the window to catch it, grabbing the glass frame quickly before it suffered any more damage, bringing it back closed.  The lock remained secure.

North huffed a small sigh, placing his hands on his hips.  Maybe if he looked at the other globes and saw his design for them, he’d get an idea.

He crossed the room to the cabinet and opened it gently.  The glaring spaces of missing globes met his reunion.  Not to his surprise, however, as he knew Bunny took the other two.  The Australian needed a push, and so North delivered it, even if indirectly.  He never prepared for Jack’s globe to be missing as well, however, but accepted it nonetheless.

North looked instead to the black globe, next to the empty space that used to house the winter sprite’s sphere.  Within it swirled black sand, like a whirlwind of dust and nightmares, condensed to nothing more than a pinprick left on the world.  Golden spark flashed through it, thought fewer than when North last saw it.  He paid the change no mind, and picked up the globe in his hand.  He peered into it, trying to recall how he’d contained the power and kept it circulating.

His eyes began to notice patterns in the globe.  A large ship loomed out of the darkness, rolling on a wave of space, and flying through the air on a black cloud.  The shape changed to Tooth’s figure, the thin fairy represented by glittering sand and wispy shadows.  As North watched, the shape began to molt, the materials flaking off of her in dusty landslides, leaving nothing but an empty skeleton of the regal woman.  North backed away from the cabinet, but remained captivated by the globe of fear.

Bunny’s form loomed out of the darkness.  From his back sprout a horrific image of arms.  They shifted, becoming flowers, sending their roots deep into Bunny’s back.  But before his eyes, the rabbit became smaller, like the winter sprite he loved more than any of the children in the world.  The roots fed off of him, and the flower swelled, their bulbous expanses crowding the globe.  Jack’s body became nothing but an empty husk, as the bulbs blossomed, pouring more sand and nightmares out than before.  The golden sand drifted through like loose pollen, quickly snuffed out by the parasitic bees.

Their wings stirred a whirlwind, reforming into the cliffs of the Claussen.  North’s whole body shook, as did the ice cap within the globe.  The black shadows fell in solid shards of ice, crashing on the glass floor of the spear silently, a solemn death to the North Pole.  A single golden speck of sand remained at the very top of the observatory, the sole light to the watchtower.  The wispy fog crawled up the spire slowly, making its way to finally take control of its limited world.

A sickening crack split through the workshop.

North stared in horror at the shards of glass at his feet.  The black sand poured out in piles, creating dunes of terror, lying still in wait on the wooden ground.  They glittered softly in the stained glass beams pouring in from the window, dying the desert in a cool rainbow of color.

Then an explosion rocked North’s vision.  Black clouds rolled from the pile, towering over him, crashing down in waves on his form.  They overcame him, drowning him a final sea of fear.  The black sand bit at his skin, scraping through his very soul.  They latched on the only target in the room, the man that created the Wonder that filled the inanimate specks as they found flesh.  The burrowed deep into his skin, finding his weakened mind through the chaos.  Oh, the sweet fear that lingered in there, growing with every moment’s attack: the doubt of his creations, the worry for his companions.  Nothing could stop the oncoming storm of terror, of gore.

So many nightmares filled North’s head.  He imagined Tooth, withering away with her age, lost in the feathers that faded to grey.  Her skin became dust, he face ashen and sunken, mummified by the preserving air of her cherry blossom trees.  The petals withered and died with her, falling to the surface of her jade basin.  From them sprouted the most beautiful flowers, but they’re beauty became short-lived as poison spread across the leaves.  Bunny suddenly stood underneath them, his Pooka form flickering to his human form.  He became a hideous hybrid, with rotting teeth stabbing through bloody gums.  And Jack lay in his arms, unconscious to the horror above him.  The winter sprite in his human form cuddled into the monster’s chest.  North couldn’t change his dream at Bunny stared down at the boy, a hungry look in his eyes.  The Russian remained watching as fangs sunk into pale flesh, drawing from the skin and cracking bones.  Jack screamed, a high, wailing scream, so much unlike any terror before.  North finally found the ability to turn away, only to see another vision.  Sandy met him, with the moon towering over them both.  Only the silhouette of the Nightmare King blotted out the moon in an instant.  The Boogey Man descended, holding Manny’s face in the palm of his hand.  He crushed it with a sickening laugh, and opened his fist to reveal shimmering white sand.  He blew, his rotting lips puckered, sending a cloud of the remains to the Dreamweaver.  Sandy remained still, looking North in the eye, as the dust overtook him.  His gaze never wavered, the sun in his irises becoming a solar eclipse.  In one final moment of sanity, North covered his face as Pitch Black struck.

Oh, the simplicity of fear, how primal it appeared.  The loss of everything he loved, and the worry of his son’s wellbeing filled North’s being.

His mind shattered.

North awoke with a gasp, lying on the floor of his workshop.  Cold sweat covered his forehead, and he sat up, sore in his whole body.  He stood, leaning on the edge of his desk gently.  He looked around, struggling to remember the past moments.

His vision seemed brighter, more vivid, curved around the edges.  Night stars shined through the stained glass window, the thin beams of light hurting his eyes.  North took a step forward, and heard a small crunch under his foot.  He looked to down and yelled.  Blood covered the floor, and glass stabbed into his bare foot.

North never felt the pain; he never saw that he still wore his boots.

With a crash, he fled into the open central atrium of his workshop.  Every noise seemed magnified, and every flying toy became a darting bullet at his head.  North screamed, thumping down the hall to the lift.  He reached it, but then recoiled at the large, hunkering figures he saw hiding within.  The giant beasts, made of black fur and shadow, erupted in surprise.  Their roars filled North’s ears, and he reached to his belt, drawing his saber.  The creatures fled, and North slammed the lever on the lift.

He emerged on the main level of the Globe Room.  The Globe of Belief towered above him, but the metal creaked with rust.  Every turn of a gear cranked to high volume in North’s ears.  He covered his face with his hands, squeezing the life out of his head.  He cried out in pain at the noise that clamored around him.  Everywhere he looked, another beast emerged, only to run away, screaming in panic and worry.  North tripped over walking spikes, small bugs threatening to stab him.  He pushed away in terror, and pulled himself up onto the control panel.  The bright moonlight refracted in his vision, and the hallucinations became worse.

North’s head snapped down, and he found another globe in his hand, somehow missed in the chaos.  The metal globe, bronze in color, seemed to be his only comfort.  He sat, cradling it, avoiding the worried gaze of the beasts around him, the threatening presence of the animals.

He reached a hand out, searching for the only relief to his suffering.  He called on his friends, plunging the crystal handle to send out the Aurora Borealis.

* * *

 

“This is awesome!” Jack cried, leaping from wall to wall in Tooth’s bedroom.

“Oi, Frostbite!  Get down from there!”

Bunny pointed to the ground, giving the signal that emphasized his demand.  Secretly, though, he smiled, glad that the sprite now mastered his new legs.  But they still needed to finish their work, and Jack’s antics didn’t help.

The Pooka landed lightly in front of Bunny, sending up a cloud of dust from the dirt floor.  Bunny coughed, fanning it away, as Jack laughed.

“So, Cottontail, ready to learn how to fly?”

“Fly?  Are you bugger, mate?”

Jack smirked with his mouth, odd with the shape and fur.  “Not at all, mate,” he mocked, “It only seems fair that if I can open tunnels and grow flowers, that you’d be able to fly and make frost.”

“Since when are you one to play fair?”

“Only when it’s not a snowball war, Bunny.”

The door crashed open, and an angry Tooth stormed in.  “Get back to work, you two!”

Bunny held his hands up in surrender.  “Hey, hey Sheila, don’t get your feathers in a twist!  We were just taking a break!”

“You don’t deserve a break!  I swear, when I’m not busy finding teeth, I have to scold you.  You still have to fix my bedroom.”

Bunny sighed, looking around the room at the remaining damage left by his globe.  The walls seemed patched up enough, with only a few holes here and there.  A few scratches remained on the ceiling, but Jack planned to fly up to fix them.  A few roots remained in the ground, but Tooth insisted they at least make them presentable and turn them into chairs or something.  After a few days, only the main debris left the scene of the crime.

Tooth fluttered around, studying their progress.  “Oh, it barely looks like you’ve gotten any work done!”  She gave them a mocking glare.  “By the way, I want it to have a new paint job too.”

Bunny gaped at her.  “P-p-paint job?  What the hell do you want on it?”

Jack spoke up, unfazed by Tooth’s stern mood.  “I bet she wants a million flattering paintings of me, right Tooth?”

Tooth gushed, lighting down in front of the boy.  “Only of your teeth, Jack.”  She patted his face, causing the Pooka to freeze.  She laughed, and then left to quickly return with buckets of purple and yellow paint.  “I want it to match the rest of the Palace.  Think you can do it?”

Bunny scoffed, “Of course I can.  I just wish you’d have told me sooner!”

“It’s not like you have a deadline,” reprimanded Jack.

“Well I still like to have a plan!”

“God, Bunny, loosen up.”

Tooth looked ready to explode, her fists balled and her arms clutched to her chest.  “Oh, well look at the time!” she exclaimed, as a minifairy rushed in.  “Take your time, you two!  I’ve got to get back to work!”

And with those words she left.

Bunny blinked after her.  Jack seemed to blush under his fur, curling into himself.

“Snowflake, you okay?”

“W-what?  Oh, yeah, I’m fine!  Wow, she seemed to leave faster than usual, right, Bunny?  Bunny?”

Bunny flinched, catching himself staring at the boy.

“You’re blushing, Bunny.  Something you want to tell me?”

Bunny stuttered, flustered, “What?”

“Looks like someone’s got a little crush on the Tooth Fairy!”  Jack laughed, averting his eyes as he floated up to the ceiling, getting to work on the cracks by filling them with permafrost.

“No, you bloody show-pony!  Let’s get back to work.”

“I already am.”

“Whatever, if you want to call that work.  See, I have to do all of the delicate furnishings, which is loads harder than just filling up a crack with snow.”

“It’s not snow, first of all, rabbit.”

“I’m not the rabbit here, mate.”

Another laugh answered Bunny, and Jack floated back down.  “Finished.”

“What, already?”

“Well, it’s got to freeze, then melt again, so I can freeze it until it’s solid.  Then we’ll paint a gloss or something over it.”

“Or something?”

“Something,” Jack replied.  He smiled, picking up a paintbrush.  “Let’s get started on the painting, shall we?”

“Wait, Jack, not yet!” Bunny reached out to stop him, but the boy took off, splashing yellow paint onto the wall.  “Do you even know what you’re going to paint?”

“Nope!” the winter spirit laughed, “Kind of thought I’d figure it out as I go, right?”

“Stop, before you ruin it for good!”

Jack lighted down.  “See, wasn’t that hard, was it?”

Bunny stared up at the mess of lines and squiggles that covered the wall.  They formed no coherent patter whatsoever, and simply looked a mess.  “What is that?”

“I like to think of my art as abstract, modern, you know?” Jack laughed, ducking as Bunny grabbed for his head.  He caught his ears, however, and wrenched the paintbrush from his hand.

“We have to put a layout first, you gumby!”

Jack only laughed.  “It was fun, though!”

“You want fun?” Bunny chuckled, “Here’s some fun!”  Bunny flung a dollop of yellow paint at the Pooka, staining his white fur.

“Hey!  Now who’s not playing fair?”  Jack leapt across the room and grabbed the bucket of purple paint, dashing over.

But Bunny leapt out of the way, evading Jack’s attack.  Jack stopped before the paint left the bucket, only sloshing some onto the floor.

“Get back here Bunny!”

“Not on your tail, Snowflake!”

A splash of purple later, and Bunny stood plastered on his feet.

Jack fell to his knees laughing and curled into a ball.  Bunny groaned in annoyance, but then smiled gently at the sprite.

“Haha, very funny.  Now help me clean up before Tooth sees this.”

The two exited the bedroom and made their way above ground to bathe in one of Tooth’s basins.  Bunny silently thanked his human form, knowing how hard it was to wash paint out of fur.

Jack helped Bunny, after getting the minimal amount he found on himself.  As Jack poured water on Bunny’s tanned back, he tried to keep his head.  Bunny found himself relaxing into the soft pads of Jack’s paws, contentedly grinning.  A blush formed across his cheeks again, but Jack pretended not to notice, shrugging it off as the situation.

“So you stole a globe too, right?”

Bunny blinked at the subject, coming out of his reverie.  “Uh, yeah.  But I get the feeling North wanted me to.”

“Why do you think that?”

“I don’t know.  He practically left them there and gave me one to hold.”

“He’s up to something,” Jack commented nonchalantly, already knowing North’s intentions and silently cursing the old man.  “Well, I think that’s the last of it.”

“We should get back to work, then.”

“Aw, do we have to?”

Bunny smirked, “Unless you want Tooth taking our heads, then yes.”

“But the water feels so nice!”

“Oh, you think so?” Bunny suddenly leapt up, slamming the poor Pooka’s head under the water.

Jack emerged, sputtering.  Fear overtook his eyes, and he cowered away from Bunny.

“What’s the matter, Frostbite?  Scared of a little water?” Bunny joked, but then stopped when he saw Jack’s frozen expression.  “Frostbite?  You okay?”

Bunny reached out to the Guardian, but hen flinched when a wall of frost suddenly materialized, shocking his finger with cold.

“Ah!  Jack, what’s wrong?”

“I-I…” Jack was shivering now, and he kept his ears down, hugging his chest.  He quickly backed away from Bunny, frozen in fear.  The pool became deeper, but Jack didn’t notice until his paw slipped on the slick floor of the basin, tumbling down under the surface.

“Jack!” Bunny cried as the Pooka flailed.  Bunny waded to where Jack stood, and grabbed him around the waist.  “Jack, Jack you can stand!”  But the boy didn’t listen.  Bunny hauled him to the edge, and pulled him out of the water.

He hurried away to return with a towel, wrapping it around Jack’s shoulders.  He hugged the Pooka to his chest, massaging his body to stop the shivering.

Jack coughed, finally coming out of his shock.  He sputtered, quietly, barely a whisper, “I… I drowned…”

“What was that?” Bunny replied, his voice gentle, caring.

“T-that’s what happened before I became… this…  I drowned…”

Bunny nodded, realizing Jack’s memories.  Throughout the past year, only Tooth knew the secret, her and MiM, and Bunny never sought to pry.  Bunny hugged the boy protectively, tucking his head under his chin.

“Jack, it’s okay…” The boy began to shake with frozen tears.  “Shh… Shh… it’s over now… I’m sorry, Snowflake…” Bunny whispered as he petted Jack’s head, feeling the snow-white fur between his fingers.  “You’re safe now.  I promise.”

Jack nodded, leaning his head against Bunny’s strong chest.  He opened his icy eyes, and looked at the tattoos on Bunny’s tan arms wrapped around him.

Bunny also looked down at the boy, his emerald eyes shining.  Bunny sighed, looking up at the night sky, the stars peeking down through the rock cliffs of the Palace.  Lanterns glowed above them, and he spied Tooth’s darting form returning from another gathering mission.

Suddenly, a bright aurora broke across the sky, lighting the world with arctic blues and greens.  Jack moved from Bunny, his ears perking up at the signal.

“I think we should hurry,” he stated calmly, all panic gone from his voice.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Bunny replied, standing up and moving to put on his clothes.  He’d worn his underwear when bathing, but folded his pants and shirt near the edge of the pool.

He grabbed his cargo pants and began to tug them on.  His foot hit the twist in the knee of the fabric, and he yelped, hopping on one foot to get through.  His foot hit the edge of the basin, and he slipped, flopping into the water.

“Bunny!” Jack called, rushing to the edge, too scared to jump in after him.

Bunny surfaced, reassuring the boy, “I’m alright, I’m alright!  Let me just get out!”

He emerged from the water, and tugged on his sopping pants in annoyance.  “Damn, I guess it’ll have to do.”  He pulled on his forest green shirt over his head.  “Let’s go.”

“Right,” Jack replied, oddly distant.

They tapped their feet in unison, a tunnel appearing underneath them as they fell into the darkness together.


	7. Trapped

Bronze glinted harshly in moonlight, the gentle beam refracted times ten and shot like a bullet into North’s eyes.  The man whimpered, shifting his body away from the large crowd of shadow creatures gathering around him.  The evil demons threatened him, with shafts of moonlight framing their forms, only hurting North more.  The Russian turned away, shielding his orb from the harsh illumination.  He focused his gaze, too lost in insanity to speak, his attention captured by the metal globe.  The browned and golden surface glowed with its own heat, and North reveled in it.  It caressed his pained eyes, and set his fearful soul to rest.  The scars never faded from behind the irises, though, no matter how hard the moon assaulted his back.

A loud rumbling of earth filled the room, as well as accented shouts from below.  Light laughter filled the air, but reached North’s ears in shrill bursts.  A scratching slither of sand descended from the sky, rattling like nails, and the fluttering of a hummingbird became the claps of a snare drum.  The ground seemed to shake under the lost Guardian, and he looked down at his feet in horror.  The wood fell away in chips, crumbling into nothingness and clattering through oblivion.  The sharp jagged rocks of the descent into Hell smashed against the wood, gnashing their terrible teeth at North’s helpless form.

The clamor around North rose to a crescendo, deafening him, intimidating him, and trapping him from all sides.  He heard nothing aside from his own heartbeat, pounding unevenly in his chest.  He felt the blood rushing through his veins, trapped by the age that kept him down.  And from there, North realized his deepest fear, only to trip over one of the devil’s horns swarming around his feet.

The laughing echo stopped abruptly, and all noise ceased.  The workshop, the Claussen, all froze in time, as if listening to the mood of the icy new arrival.  The clapping of the drum stilled, soft fairy feet lighting down on the smooth wooden floor.  The sands continued to shift, but with a more gentle rain.  Toys obeyed the immediate command, given by the coldest authority in the room.  Worry radiated from the winter Pooka, as he stared at the fallen form of North.

Bunny’s tunnel closed up next to Jack’s with the same grinding nose of scraping metal that killed North’s ears.  The large man rolled over, struggling to stand up, while clutching onto his bronze heart in his fist.  North stumbled to his feet, and the small shadows crowded around his feet, the jangling of bells magnified with their small movements.  North shook them off with a shudder, not even able to scream under the blue gaze of Jack.

Bunny broke the near silence, padding forward.  “You okay, mate?  You sent the signal out.”

North looked up fearfully, and Bunny recoiled at the scared insanity he met.  North yelled, finally producing noise, lurching to the control panel to escape the monster before him.  In North’s eyes, he saw the hybrid from his nightmare.  The tufts of matted fur marking his body, and the dark, rotted blood from carrion staining his yellowed teeth, jagged in the moonlight. The black-furred figure hunched over, and arms sprouted gruesomely from his back.  Black webbings of torn flesh draped across the tanned arms, dark liquid leaking and pus-filled boils spilling over his back.  The too-human face gazed to North, snarling his distaste.  Emerald green eyes transformed to crimson, staring at North with evil intent.

“Crikey, North, you look as pale as MiM himself,” growled the creature in a deep, feral voice.

Another shrill voice chirped, and North covered his ears to hide the loud noise from his mind as it trilled, “Why’d you signal the Aurora.  North, you know I have a busy schedule to keep.  Is it Pitch again?”

Bile rose in the Russians throat when Tooth entered his vision.  No, not Tooth, not the beautiful fairy that occupied her Palace in Asia, North saw a mummy.  An empty husk of the woman stood before him, padding over on dead feet, awkward out of the air.  Shriveled wings hung weakly from her sides, fluttering only in the wind, fragile enough to crumble at a moment’s notice.  Her greyed skin flaked off with induced feathers, fluttering to the ground, hanging together only by strands of tar.  The tar stretched between every spike on her body, oiling the crown of her balding head.  Her face sunk into her head, and her mouth gaped open in a silent scream, words pouring out like sick bees, swarming the room around them with buzzing nonsense.  Her nose stretched as the stinger of the hive, and her eyes bored into her skull, black pits of nothingness, all color seeped from her body.

North chocked out through the swelling nausea in his throat, “T-Tooth… What are you?”

The mummy folded her arms, offended.  “What are you talking about?  You know what?  This is a complete waste of time.  I have twenty-three bicuspids, twelve incisors, and fifty-seven molars to collect, five of which are from one first-grader girl that tried to prove herself in a fight with a sixth-grade boy.  She flosses, and I love her to death, and I need to deliver her coins personally.  So if you have nothing else to say, I’ll have to bid you goodbye.  You with me, Sandy?”

But the small ball of sand escaped North’s vision.  Instead, he saw a mountain of black shadows towering out of the ground, hesitating before nodding to Tooth.  Yellow eyes gleamed down at North from the head of the thin figure.  North yelled at the sight of Pitch Black, the evil man smirking down at the Russian, and he backed away, running around the trio of horrors that surrounded him.

“North, what’s wrong?” came the only clear voice in the room.

North nearly cried in relief, unable to hold his strength any longer.  The snow-white form of Jack emerged from the sea of demons around him, the only shining star to ever penetrate the guards of Hell.  The Pooka’s ears shot straight up as North barreled towards him, grabbing his hand and tugging him along down the hallway.

“North, what are you doing?  Let me go!”

“Jack, you are alright!  There – there are demons: rusalkas and likhos!  They follow us!  Hurry, hurry!”  North drew his saber, waving it behind him at the pursuing demons, nearly nipping Jack in the process.

“Hey!  Watch where you swing that thing!  What is going on?  North!  North, stop!”

He didn’t listen, dragging the boy to the lift.  He slammed the metal grate closed, and faced the large Bunny that leapt at the door.

“North, what the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Back, back demon!  Get back, all of you!”

Bunny shook his six claws on the grating, but North pulled the lever, sending him and Jack away.  Jack tried to push past the man, but he held him back.

“No, Jack, it’s too dangerous!”

“What are you talking about?  Let me out!”

Bunny cursed, turning back to Tooth and Sandy.  The little golden man cursed silently, and leapt over the edge of the balcony to fly down the workshop floor.  Bunny followed suit.  Tooth hesitated, her purple and green feathers glinting in the moonlight before she dashed over the edge, scared of what she might find.

North pushed Jack out of the lift roughly, brandishing his sword at the large, hunkering beasts that got in his way.

“North, what are you doing?  That’s Phil!” Jack shouted as the large yeti barely dodged the metal blade.

“No, that is monster.”

They quickly pushed their way to the workshop, and North slammed the door shut behind them both.  He immediately crossed to one of his worktables and began to barricade the door.  Muffled shouts and pounding answered his shield, but North kept piling more obstacles.

Jack whipped around to face the man.  “You have about five seconds to explain what the hell is going on here!”

“We are being attacked,” North answered simply, pushing more furniture in front of the door.

Jack stormed to the Russian’s side.  “Is that why you sent out the Aurora?  Who is it, Pitch?”

North shook his head, satisfied with his barricade.  He crossed the room to a wall lined with swords, and other assorted weapons.  They all glittered dangerously in the light shining through the window.

“Not Pitch.  Not just him.  Big monster turned Tooth into mummy.”

Jack stared at him, unable to form the words, until he managed to grasp with his lips, “A-are you insane?  Tooth was just out there!  So was Bunny!  Until you decided to swing a sword at his head!”

“I did no such thing!  That was demon, evil spirit from Hell!”

“What evil spirit!  North, you’re hallucinating or something!  What is the matter with you?”  Jack stepped towards the man, continuing, “You’re not even thinking straight!  It’s like you’ve been possessed by something!  Maybe tha–” A light crunch sounded under Jack’s foot, and he winced as he felt glass pierce his skin.

He knelt down, wincing, as he studied the floor.  The cut was shallow, not very bad, but he searched around carefully.  “North, what’s this glass?  What’s…?” he trailed off.  Between the floorboards glittered black jewels, small specks of sand.  “North, what’s this?”

North turned to see the bloodstain from earlier in the evening.  “Oh, I cut my foot on glass when demons attacked.  I need to find my boots.  Sorry about blood.”

Jack glanced up curiously at the Russian.  “There’s no blood here, North.  And you’re wearing your boots…  I’m talking about this black… sand…”

Jack stood, and rushed to the cabinet that housed the globes.  He swung open the doors with a bang, mimicking the continued pounding from outside the workshop.  He counted: one, two, three, four…

“North, there are more globes missing.  Besides the one I used and the one Bunny used.  There are three more globes missing.”  Jack turned to face the man, and said, almost in a whisper, “North, what did you do?”

“What was that?” North asked, turning away from the wall.

“What did you do?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“WHAT DID YOU DO, NORTH?” Jack shouted, launching himself across the room at the big man.  “WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO?  Did you use one on yourself?  Is that it?  Is this whole mess just another test run for one of your STUPID GLOBES?”

Frost began to creep up Jack’s face, alighting him with a white glow.  The ice curled on his cheeks, and radiated on his fur.  The cold began to chill into North’s skin where Jack touched him and he pulled away.

“I do not know what you are talking about!”

Jack raised his hackles, and set his ears flat, preparing to leap again.  North raised his hands to cover his face, exposing his fist for Jack to see.

“North, what’s that?”

“W-what?”

“What’s that in your hand?  That metal…” Jack leapt forward, and snatched it away before North could stop him.  “What’s this?” he exclaimed, taking the globe in his hand.  “Is this another one of your globes?  Why are you doing this to yourself?  What did you hope would happen?”

“Give it back!” North cried, reaching after it.

“Oh, no you don’t!  You have no right to even look at this!”

“Jack, give it back!”  North sent a fist flying to Jack’s stomach, knocking the breath out of him.

Jack gasped on the floor, struggling to breathe.

North towered over him, a cold look in his eyes.  “This is my creation, my work.  You will not destroy my–”

The bronze globe clicked, and suddenly burst in North’s hand.  It launched up his arm, encasing his limbs in metal rope.  North cried, struggling to pry the thing off, but it clamped firmly to his flesh, wrapping around his arm.  More ropes crawled up his arm, latching around his neck.

“N-North!” Jack gasped, reaching for the man.

North pulled, fighting to breathe.  He backed up over the cracked ice on the floor as he battled his mechanical creation.  It sank claws into his head, and crushed his chest.  North stumbled, and tripped, slamming against the stained-glass window.  It shattered, tumbling North out into the Arctic air below.

“NORTH!” Jack screamed, pushing himself up.  He grabbed his staff from the floor beside him, and staggered to the window.  Without a moment’s hesitation, he dived out after him.

The cold wind bit at his face, tearing at his skin as he fell.  Jack squinted as flurries of snow dashed into his eyes.  He spotted North’s form flailing below.  The crash through the window short-circuited the chains around his arm, and North now tore at his neck with both hands.  Jack shot down, eats flat against his skull, and his legs extended to straighten his fall.  The coil choking north suddenly snapped, the bronze remains of the globe flying back up towards Jack.  They struck his shoulder.

Jack yelped, whimpering as he fell off course.  He held his shoulder in one hand, the wind taking control of his descent.  Lightning flashed through the night sky, the Moon’s beams wavering in the storm clouds.  Jack’s ears curled at the boom of thunder following, but he tried to dive faster.

He ground approached like a comet, speeding up at North’s flailing body.  The man screamed, blood rushing from the puncture wounds in his head.  The streams coated Jack’s fur as he flew through them.  The wind fought against him, not giving him the push he needed.  Jack extended his staff, in a final desperate attempt.  North’s fingers brushed the edge, barely, just barely, not able to get a hold.

A white light exploded from the end of Jack’s staff.  North’s hand froze to the wood, and Jack yanked upward, fishing for life.  They shot like a cork, and ascended back to the Claussen.

They lighted down on the wooden floor in a heap.  North collapsed on top of Jack, unable to see straight through the blood streaming into his eyes.  Jack dragged himself out from under the large man’s body, and quickly turned to check on him.

The pounding at the door reached a climax, and suddenly, Jack heard Bunny shout, “JACK!”  The pain in his voice caused the winter sprite to freeze, staring at the door, before splintering sounds racked the wood.  “Damn,” Bunny muttered, “Hang on Jack!  We’re coming!”

A loud crash sounded, and the door blew open with an explosion of frost.  The metal table sailed at Jack, and he ducked as it flew over his head.  He yelled as it crashed against the wall of swords, sending the metal weaponry crashing down in sharp piles.  The globe cabinet spilled open, sending the glass spheres to the floor.  Jack dived, sliding on his stomach to reach them.  He caught two of them.  The Memories globe carried on another wind, out of Jack’s control, whisking away out of the window.

The final globe, a bright one filled with golden sand, bounced and cracked on the hard wood floor.  It detonated in midair in between North and Jack.  Jack yelled, shielding himself from the sand rushing past his face.

Suddenly, warmth covered Jack, with a tinge of cold underneath.

“It’s alright, Frostbite, I’ve got you.”

Jack snapped his head up to look at the worried face of Bunny.  His air blew against the force of the sand, the golden jewels outlining it in a haze.  His muscled arms wrapped around Jack protectively, pressing him to his chest.  He curled around him in a ball, and Jack noticed changes in his skin.  White frost spread across his limbs, covering his tattoos with spidery patterns.  Jack nearly flinched away, but Bunny only hugged him tighter.

“Stay down!”

The waves of sand receded, and Jack looked over Bunny’s shoulder.  The Australian pressed him against the wall further, reluctant to let go.  But Jack squeezed past running to North’s side.  He fell to his knees, and looked down at the unconscious man.  Blood streamed down his skin, golden flecks caked in it.  His eyes remained closed.

“…North…  North… wake up…”

Bunny crouched down next to him.  Tooth entered the room, gasping, as did Sandy, who looked around in shock.

Bunny checked for a pulse.  “It’s alright, he’s alive.”  He turned to Tooth and Sandy.  “We need to get him to the infirmary, now!”

Sandy nodded, creating a floating gurney out of sand.  He slid it under North, pulling the older man on.  Tooth fluttered by, checking his other vitals.

Bunny held out a hand to the shocked Jack.  “Snowflake, come on.”

Jack took a shuddering breath, blinking, distant from the scene.  “N-no… It’s okay, you go on ahead.”

“But – …alright.  I’ll be back as quick as I can.”  Bunny paused before adding, “Like a bunny.”

Jack smirked, but only to appease the Australian.

After they left, Jack stood silently, looking around at the mess.  Pieces of wood hung from the ceiling, cracks in every surface.  The shards of glass littered the room, from the window, the broken globes, the ice, everything.

A rage boiled inside the winter sprite’s chest, burning his heart, and yet it felt colder than even the most frozen wasteland.  It grew, and frost began to form on his skin, the wind rustling in through the open window.  It began with the stir of a single piece of paper.  Then the tempest tore through the workshop, creating a whirlwind of snow and ice, and debris all flying around Jack’s body.

Images from the wreckage whizzed by his face.  Blocks of wood, chippings, ice, and even swords all shot past.  A larger hammer smashed through North’s dollhouse, bringing it down in a tinkling mess of ice.  The amusement park fell, crumbling into powder.  The ice became part of the storm, never ceasing in its path.  Jack released the snow globes from his hands, but they stayed in the air, suspended beside him.

A blueprint soared past, but Jack caught it out of thin air.  Black sand swirled around it, as well as glass shards.  Jack glanced at the label in the corner of the paper:

_Fearlings_

Jack yelled, tearing the paper in two.  He grabbed it again and again, ripping it to shreds.  Frozen tears slid down his face, and he rushed through the tornado, grabbing the other plans as well.  He ripped through each one he found, until only scraps floated by, swirling in a storm.  Finally, he held the final sheet, labeled _All is One_.  Jack hesitated, his paws crumpling the edge of the paper, ready to tear.  Then suddenly, through the fog of debris and ice, the doll emerged.  The small doll that with the ripped dress that North fixed up.  Her arm remained broken by her side.

Slowly, the storm settled down, the globes, the papers, the wood all landing gently on the floor.  Jack collapsed to his knees, clutching the doll in his paws.

The wind pushed one more object to him.  A small matryoshka doll rolled to Jack’s thigh.  Jack picked it up, before feeling the tears pour openly through his fur.  He cried, not letting the torrent stop as it froze on his face.  He let loose his grief, as he needed to, and felt it never wash away.

“Hey, Snowflake, how’re you… doing…”

Bunny sat next to the boy, wrapping his arm around the Pooka’s shoulders.  He gently opened Jack’s fist, removing the doll.  He opened it to the smaller one, the one with North’s face, twisted into a roar of rage.  His eyes shown in the wood design with fearlessness that Jack depended on.

“He – He was never supposed to b-be afraid,” Jack choked out through his tears.  “He w-was supposed to always protect u-us…  Why d-didn’t he?”

“Shh…” Bunny whispered, comforting the boy for the second time that night, although he felt the need for comfort as well.  “Shh… Snowflake, I know… I know…”

They waited in the workshop until the moon remained directly overhead, about to start the dip towards dawn.  Jack’s tears stopped eventually, and Bunny held him.  Bunny never stopped petting the boy’s head, wishing for something to change.  But change never came, not that night, not even when Jack fell asleep in Bunny’s arms.


	8. Dreams & Reality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took a lot of liberty with the designing of Jack's room. I still hope that I made it clear enough.  
> Oh, and I quoted The Post Office Girl, the English translation.

Jack awoke the next morning to the gentle net of a strong embrace.  Warm arms wrapped around him, nimble, calloused fingers stroking through the fur on his back and head.  He nuzzled deeper into the warmth, closer to Bunny’s chest, not wanting to let it go.  The reality of the situation escaped his mind in the early morning haze; he felt too drained to summon any emotions anyway.  So Jack kept his eyes closed, and his ears relaxed, as he breathed softly in, catching the scent of sweet and rugged earth, blended with the faint fragrance of flowers, but not in any way feminine.

Bunny gazed on the sleeping Pooka with lidded eyes, smiling softly at the silken fur in his hands.  He hugged the boy closer, not ready to wake him up just yet, even after an hour of just resting, admiring the small sprite’s sleeping form.  With his black-tipped ears falling back, and his mouth slightly open, revealing his bucked teeth, Jack looked like an adorable snowflake, serene in all peacefulness.  Bunny knew the wave of pain that coursed through both of their veins, the aftermath of the night before.  He knew the horror they both felt, and the shock that still penetrated the young man’s mind.

Giving up on sleep, Jack stirred softly in Bunny’s arms, groaning against the warm force.  He blinked his blue eyes open, finally seeing the dark green cloth of Bunny’s shirt.  Jack smiled, only briefly, before jolting awake, fully capturing the situation.  He sat up, breaking Bunny’s hold around him, and pulled away.  The white sheets that covered the pair fell, and Jack tumbled off the bed with a startled yelp and a loud thump on the hard wood floor.

Bunny laughed, despite the boy’s obvious embarrassment, and sat up, looking down at the Guardian of Fun.  “Bit jumpy this morning, aren’t we, Snowflake?”

Arcs of frost sparked between the tips of fur on Jack’s cheeks, his ears flattened in annoyance.  “W-what are you doing?” Jack snapped back, flustered by the situation.

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you in my bed?”

“You needed some company last night, mate, and the floor didn’t look too comfortable,” Bunny replied coolly, despite the red tinge coloring his cheeks.  “Funny, I don’t believe I’ve ever been in your room before.  It’s nice.”

The Australian swept his emerald eyes around the room, taking in the truth of his statement.  After the battle with Pitch, North had decided to convert his old observatory, on the edge of the mountain, into another long-term living space, while he moved his astronomy supplies to the very peak of the iced ridges towering over the North Pole around the Claussen.  The room quickly became occupied by Jack, who wasted no time in creating a home for himself.  The walls glittered with light blue paint, webbed with fragile frost that sparkled in the sunlight from the vaulted ceiling.  The vents on the glass roof closed with the press of a button, but Jack preferred to leave them open, except for those long summer days when the sun never set, preventing him from sleeping without the peace of darkness.  The light poured in with morning waves, reflecting off of the walls in a myriad of blue and white beams, creating the everlasting illusion of snow swirling in an invisible wind.  The door set into a flat wall, opposite of the bed.  A rounded desk sat behind the bed, connecting the headboard to the curved wall.  Small glass figurines lined the shelf, and books sat in a stack next to them.  Speaking of literature, a bookshelf spanned the entirety of the curved semicircle wall, suspended far above the bed about twenty feet in the air.  A ladder climbed up to them, even though Jack often preferred to simply fly.  Three hundred years worth of books weighted the light brown wood wedged in as tight as possible.  Stacks of hardcover papers leaned against the wall, pushed up in an attempt to create unnecessary space in the large room.  But they still remained scattered across the floor, some tattered, loose leaf pages torn from old tomes, and fallen out of order, forgotten in the mess of fiction and fact.

“You’ve, uh, got a lot of… books,” Bunny commented, his eyebrows arching on his forehead.

Jack stood up brushing his fur off, grumbling.  A stray sheet of newer paper crumpled under his large paw, the weak fibers tearing with a small rip.  Jack paid it no mind, although his ear twitched at the sound, like a small wince that he heard in his memories.  “You don’t have to act so surprised, Bunny,” Jack said, kneeling down to peer at the ripped page.  “Ah, _The Post Office Girl_.”

“What was that?”

“It’s a novel that was originally published in German by an Austrian author named Stefan Zweig.  It’s about a girl who moves to America after the First World War.  I’ve only had this English copy for a few years, but it’s already fallen apart.”

“Did you enjoy it?”

Jack shrugged, “I reread it a few times, only because it’s really confusing and psychological at times.  But the reason it really fell apart was because of the storms a few weeks back.  I left the windows open, and a lot of my newer books, the ones I didn’t put on the shelves, tore apart.  I’ve been trying to mend some of them, but I haven’t had too much time.”

He picked up the sheet of paper, and then grabbed his staff from the side of the bed, carrying it with him to a door on the side of the room, built into the edge of the semicircle.

“Oi, Frostbite, where’re you going?”

Jack merely gestured for Bunny to follow, no emotion shining through.  The lack of joy in his posture made Bunny anxious, but he stood and moved after the boy anyway.

Behind the door lay a large staircase that curved with the wall, leading up to the observatory ceiling.  Jack remained steps above the Australian, his padded feet barely sounding on the wooden steps.  Bunny couldn’t help his eyes as they trailed to the Pooka’s tail, the usually perky appendage drooping slightly, only kept adorable by the small tuft of fur that remained alert.  Bunny frowned, trying to distract his thoughts, to focus on Jack’s emotions, but it became difficult with the boy’s rump in his face.

Jack emerged onto a balcony.  Bunny hesitantly stepped out with his bare feet, before leaping back in surprise.

“Ah!” he cried, nearly falling down the stairs, but Jack caught his arm, ears flat on his head.

“It’s okay, it’s only glass.”

The floor of the large platform shone through to the ground below, the sheeted bed small from forty feet above the floor.  Right above them, the glass dome of the observatory arced high, all the windows securely shut.  The platform didn’t span to the edges of the walls, instead suspended by light chains, the edge lined with metal railings to prevent any accidents.  A small glass pathway led across the empty space to the cement floor lining the room.  A desk sat against the flat wall, with a single lamp mounted atop it.  More stacks of damaged books, towering even higher than the ones on the ground, lined the walls, in heaps of crumpled paper and discarded leather.

The pair walked across the glass, making their way to the solid floor along the flat wall.  Jack set the paper on the desk, and then moved to the piles of books, searching for the right copy.  Bunny joined him, able to pick through more carefully with his thin fingers.

“What are we looking for?” he asked, realizing he didn’t have a clue.

“This,” Jack replied, emerging from the piles with a paperback copy, the cover glinting in the sunlight.  The dark sepia pattern of what appeared to be lovers met Bunny’s sightline, and he cocked his head curiously.

“That’s the book?”

Jack nodded, “Yeah, I’ve been meaning to put a hardcover on it, but like I said, not a lot of time.  Now I have a better reason to get to work on it, though.”

He moved to the desk, and pulled out a shear, preparing to cut the bindings loose.

“Wait!” Bunny interrupted, “Do you even know what you’re doing?”

Jack sighed, mildly annoyed now.  “I’ve done this before.”

“Oh,” came the response, as Bunny sat down next to the boy.  He thought, listening to the light cut of paper, before asking, “When?”

“When what?”

“When have you done this before?”

Jack shrugged again, his furred shoulders brushing against the fur on his cheeks.  “I’ve done it a lot over the years.  Making snow all the time is boring.  So I decided to read.  I usually waited and read old books, ones that no one would notice were missing until much later, and I kept them.  I froze them in the ice sometimes, to keep them safe.  Then I moved here, and North gave me full access to his library.”

“So you just took all the books you could carry?”

“It’s been a few years, and I’ve read all of the books below you at least once.  I’m not as stupid as you think.”

Bunny turned to face Jack, and his tone sounded hurt.  “I never thought you were stupid!”

“Well you definitely didn’t think I was intelligent.”

“That’s not true!”

Jack sighed, looking older than his age, before saying, “Look, we both know that you never liked me, not from the start.  Anyway, it doesn’t matter now, because…” he fell silent, staring at one of the pages before him.

“Because what, Jack?” Bunny asked, still burnt by Jack’s strange mood.  Not getting a response, he picked himself up and stood over the boy.  Jack’s ice blue eyes widened, shocking against his white fur.  “What’re you staring at, you gumby?”  Bunny looked over his shoulder at the page, and read silently.

_“Fear is a distorting mirror in which anything can appear as a caricature of itself, stretched to terrible proportions; once inflamed, the imagination pursues the craziest and most unlikely possibilities. What is most absurd suddenly seems the most probable.”_

“Bunny,” Jack said, his voice quiet, “where’s North?”

Bunny clutched the back of Jack’s chair until his knuckles turned white, not willing to say.  Finally, he gave in, his voice flat, “In the infirmary.  He’s beat up real bad, Jack; you don’t want to see it.”

But Jack already stood from the desk and leapt over the platform’s edge.

“Oi! Frostbite!”

Bunny dashed across the glass, making his way to the stairs.  He stumbled down them, nearly tripping over his bare feet, before emerging on the ground floor.  He rushed across the room as Jack left, but then fell over his combat boots.  With a loud grunt he landed on the floor, and he looked up to see the winter sprite fling the door open with a bang, fleeing to the infirmary.

“Jack, wait!”

Bunny picked himself up, limping to the the door, before breaking out into a run down the hallway.  He emerged in the living quarters, running through the narrow guest hallways to the Yeti’s rooms.  He dodged past the crowds of surging workers, as Jack simply flew over them.

“Jack!” Bunny called, but the boy disappeared in the distance.

Cursing, Bunny took a sharp left down a narrow stairwell, knowing the path would take longer, but might let him intercept the boy.  He made his way down the unlit shaft, hurrying as fast as his feet would take him.  Light appeared, and he emerged at the top of the Globe Room, but Jack already fled down another hall, down the central atrium to the wards.  Bunny leapt over the banister, landing on the floor below roughly, still not used to his human form.  He took off down the hallway, trying to find Jack.

The boy leaned against the windowsill, looking into the room where North lay, hooked up the machines that measured his vitals.  His ears lay drooped on his head, and his paws clutched his staff firmly, gripping at the gnarled wood like a security blanket.  His gaze flickered over the scars on North’s face and the broken nose, noting the bandages that started at his neck and then disappeared underneath the sheets.

Bunny approached cautiously, averting his eyes from the Guardian of Fun to the broken man behind the glass.  They both remained silent, taking in the situation.

Jack spoke first, murmuring, “There’s no blood.”

Bunny nodded, raising a fist to wipe his nose.  “Yeah, Sandy and Tooth took real good care of him, cleaning him up like a newborn babe.”

Jack leaned his head against the window.  “It’s so… white and clean…”

Bunny didn’t respond, not knowing what to say.  He tapped his foot awkwardly, noting his reflection in the glass under the fluorescent lights of the medical ward.  The white halls contrasted so dynamically from the red, vibrant coloring of the rest of the Claussen.  Bunny hated it, hated the lack of life, the lack of hope that entered these rooms.  Hoping, but scared of disappointment; hoping for some sign of relief.  All injured spirits came to the Claussen for help, if they could.  And Bunny knew the hopelessness that often accompanied those that did, as well as those that could not.  Bunny’s eyes flicked over to Jack’s reflection, and he saw the worry in them, the glassy, wet tears shining in the pools of frozen blue.  But Bunny also saw something else, something only he could notice.

Bunny saw hope.  He saw hope, so much stronger than the patients of hopelessness; hope in knowing that nothing could ever hurt him more than three hundred years of nothing but hurt itself.  Knowing that Manny, MiM, the poor bastard, already hurt him already scarred him to the point where if he lost hope, he lost everything.  Bunny knew the importance of it, and knew not to question the naivety of the sprite, but some truths needed to be told.

“It doesn’t look good, mate,” he finally said, breaking the solid silence, “He’s in a coma from that sand globe that exploded, and there are serious wounds to his head and neck.  His leg is broken, and he’s lost a lot of blood.  He won’t die, as far as we can tell, but there’s no guarantee that he will ever wake up.”

“Sandy can’t do anything?” Jack’s voice sounded distant.

“No.  He doesn’t know what that bloody globe did, but he can’t see his dreams, or send him any for that matter.”

Jack swallowed, and looked up to meet Bunny’s emerald gaze.

“I’m not hoping for him to wake up, Bunny.  I know he will.”

Bunny seemed taken aback, staring at Jack with an absurd expression.  “Did you hear what I just said?  We can’t guarantee–”

“I know what you said.  But I know he’s going to wake up, so it doesn’t matter.  I’m not going to waste hope on a certainty.”  Jack’s eyes glinted with a cold reality that barreled into Bunny’s thoughts.

The Australian stated, somewhat wonderingly, “Then what are you hoping for?”

Jack turned back to the glass.  “‘Once inflamed, the imagination pursues the craziest and most unlikely possibilities. What is most absurd suddenly seems the most probable.’

“I’m hoping that my fears are just as absurd as North’s were.  I’m hoping that my fears are wrong, but at the same time, I’m too scared to try and find out.”

Bunny stepped closer to the Pooka, grabbing his arm gently.  Jack’s head shot up to look at the man, and he shuddered slightly at the touch, despite his warm fur and already cold being.

“What are you scared of, Jack?”

Tears glinted in Jack’s eyes, and he whispered, “I’m scared that that could have been you in that hospital bed.  And it would have been my fault.”

“What do you mean?” Bunny asked.  He raised a hand to Jack’s cheek, cupping the fur in his hand.

“If I had chosen the wrong globe, if it hadn’t done what it already did, that could have been you.  You didn’t see that… that metal thing attack North.  It nearly killed him.  It wasn’t just the fall that gave him those scars.  This is all my fault, Bunny, but I’m just glad it wasn’t you.  And – and I think that scares me the most.”

“What does?”

Jack nearly chuckled, smiling sadly at the man that held his face.  “We both know that you never liked me, Bunny, not from the start.  And it doesn’t matter now, because all I do is create more trouble.”

Bunny let go of Jack’s arm, as he felt Jack’s whiskers brush his cheeks.  He stared down at the closed eyes that met so close to his, before he felt the flat lips against his.  He felt stunned, not noticing the cool sweetness that spread from his face; not noticing the quivering longing that played against his mouth.  All he registered was that Jack kissed him.  Just as he began to raise his hands to grab the Pooka around the shoulders, though, the sprite pulled away, tears now spilling into his fur, freezing into small ice drops that glittered in the hopeless hospital light.

“I’m sorry, Bunny.”

Two thumps to the ground, and Jack disappeared.


	9. Transitions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This... is a really awkward chapter at first. I kept attempting to drag it out, and then... well, you'll see.  
> Also, all of the book titles mentioned were attempts at being generic, but it ended up being... like a bad high school syllabus. (Excluding the Harry Potter, of course, and the Despereaux, and the Dante and Poe.)

Bunny tore through the Claussen like a madman, shouting the whole way for any offenders to move while he ran for Jack’s bedroom.  He fought for speed as he stumbled in his combat boots, clunking heavily on the hard wood.  They managed to catch holds on the ice that littered the hallway, the blazing sunlight reflecting into Bunny’s eyes in blinding flashes of white and yellow against his emerald green.  But he didn’t care, all of his thoughts on the urgent chase to find Jack.

He tore up the side staircase from before, tripping over the ledges of the shaft.  He fell roughly on the ledges, landing on his side with a grunt.  The narrow, unlit space began to fill him, and he cried out.

“Jack!”

A large, hunkering figure appeared in the doorway above, blocking the only source of light in the stairwell.  Bunny yelped, lurching away, and fell the rest of the way down the stairs.  The heap of fur at the top grunted in surprise and rushed down to help the aching Bunny.

“Phil,” the Australian spat, “Get out of my way!  Jack – Jack, he…”

“Arblaghraba?”

“I don’t know where he is!  I was on my way to his room when I fell down these bloody stairs!  Get off of me, stupid furball!”

Phil crossed his arms, offended.  “Gjubragra moruof!”

Bunny stood.  “No, Phil – I, I didn’t mean it like that.  It’s just,” he fumbled with his hands, before continuing, “He just… left.  He’s just – What kind of bloody wanker does that, anyway?  He didn’t even say anything, just bloody necked me and then left!”

Bunny froze when the words left him, looking to the yeti.  Phil stared at him with wide eyes, and held his hands up, taking a step back.

“Phil,” Bunny started, “Don’t you dare.”  But the creature already turned and fled up the stairs.  “Phil!  Phil, get back here you bloody furball!  Phil!”

Bunny chased him to the landing, only to find it empty.  The living quarters all lay deserted.  Silence rang through the halls, only broken by the occasional, scenic wind through the icy windows.

“Damn, they clear out fast.”

Bunny shivered, leaning back against one of the crème-colored walls, flinching away when his back met ice.  His eyes swept over the burgundy borders that joined with the rafters above, supporting the peaked ceiling.  Icicles hung from the ledges, small and decorative, a nice seasonal touch, despite it being near the end of spring.

He smiled at the small points, his thoughts turning to their creator.  The ice became clear blue, like the shimmering lakes that shone against the pale snow, bright orbs in a sea of pale white.  Snow fluttered through the open rafters, creating the soft hair that wavered above the boy’s brow.  Bunny closed his eyes, falling back against the wall, ignoring the shock of numb cold that met his back.

Did he even like Jack?

He’d never stopped to actually think about it, not in the past few days.  The memories of his affection only consisted of the white Pooka he searched for now.  The sparkling fur that glinted in the light through Tooth’s glass ceiling, so reminiscent of the own youths chilly bedroom, and the warmth of fur against his tanned skin.  But the fur began to fade behind Bunny’s eyelids, melting away into pale skin.  He felt the soft, pink flesh against his own, and then against his fur.  Bunny felt human Jack; the real Jack, the Jack that he loved as any being in the world, no matter what form he took, in his Pooka arms.  He kept the boy safe, protecting him from all the dangers.  Except from each other.

The ice on his back bit through his green shirt, and Bunny leapt away again.  He rubbed his shoulder gingerly, sending the ice a dirty look.  How he wished for his fur now.  He sighed, walking away through the empty halls, his panic lost within his mental debate.

Jack, the winter sprite, and the Guardian of Fun; the boy sent his mind into a whirl.  Thoughts of the past few days flew through his memories.  He held the shivering Pooka in his arms, shielding the attack of the sand globe from him.  He comforted him, holding his as he dried him off; Bunny cursed himself for pushing the boy into the water back at Tooth’s Palace, guilt rushing through him at the sheer panic that he caused.  He remembered the paint, the only playful fight out of hundreds of others, all of which Bunny wanted to take back.

His memories dived deeper.  He remembered the playful smirk Jack held, not impaired by the rabbit teeth and flat nose.  How that smirk annoyed Bunny.  But it held certain affection, a cute quirk that made the Australian yearn to see it.  With every passing step into his thoughts, Bunny fell more into – nothingness, without any harness to keep him under control.

Bunny pushed open the red door quietly, the wood creaking, scraping gently against the bedroom floor.  He closed it behind him, his tanned fingers brushing over the light blue paint on the interior.  It closed with a soft click, and Bunny turned to face the open room.

“Jack?  Are you here?”

As he expected, no answer replied to his call.

Bunny sighed, walking over to the bed, and sitting on its edge.  He set his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands.  He raised his head to look at the bookshelves lining the room.

“Three hundred years… of books,” Bunny murmured.  “Never took Snowflake as the kind to read.”

His feet moved across the carpet, making their way to the paper-clad walls.  His hands latched onto a ladder, feeling the smooth wood beneath his fingers, polished to a shine.  The shelves towered, high above, but he began to climb anyway, just to look at the comforts given to three centuries of isolation.

_The Great Gatsby_

_Anne Frank: The Diary of a Young Girl_

_Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone_

_Annabel Lee_

_Frankenstein_

_The Thief Lord_

_A Wrinkle in Time_

_The Republic_

_The Wonderful Wizard of Oz_

Almost haphazardly, Bunny dropped the books down onto the bed below, tossing them over his shoulder.  He knew of their soft landing, but only looked through the literature to distract his thoughts.

_Gulliver’s Travels_

_The Tempest_

_Dante’s Divine Comedy_

_White Fang_

_Robinson Crusoe_

_The Tale of Despereaux_

_Pride and Prejudice_

_The Catcher in the Rye_

_Dracula_

_The Count of Monte Cristo_

_Wuthering Heights_

_A Tale of Two Cities_

_A Christmas Carol_

Bunny stopped, letting the final book fall from his hands.  So many papers surrounded him, stories that gave Jack joy.  Even the dark ones, the scary stories, he loved enough to shelve for keepsake.  All different genres, throughout all the ages of history, even before he rose from the ice, collected on the wooden shelves.

He looked onto Jack’s life; in the books he saw the fragments of Jack’s being.  The center of the boy that he now loved, latched onto every word that peeled away from the pages, into the open air.  They fell softly, creating a world to which Jack escaped; all of the pain, the loneliness.  The ink flew into the sky.  They fell like snowflakes.

Bunny blinked as a flake of snow landed on his nose, and he wrinkled it in annoyance.  His necked snapped back, and he gazed up beyond the balcony to the glass dome.  The vents rested open, unlike the view from moments ago.  It took a moment to register.

A loud thump rang through the room as Bunny’s boots hit the floor.  He ran past the mess of literature, leather, and paper that lay on the bed, dashing to the stairs.  The wall rushed past, the gentle lanterns flickering in the breeze that Bunny created in his hurry.  He huffed his air in as he emerged onto the glass balcony.  He pounded across, ignoring the fragile floor, trusting North to keep it sturdy through the architecture.  Cement floor met rubber sole, and Bunny slid to a stop, almost crashing into the glass.  He stepped around the vent, out onto the balcony surrounding the observatory.

Cold, bitter wind bit at his bare arms, snow dashing across his face despite the clear sky.  It blew from the icecap below, sending flurries of frigid crystal into the air.  The wind picked up, whipping Bunny’s slate blue hair away from his forehead, bearing the tanned face for the world to see.  The Australian turned in a slow circle, taking in the surroundings, looking for any sign of Jack.  The bronze frame of the observatory windows glinted harshly in the sunlight, sending golden beams glowing across the surface.  Icicles hung from the metal banister surrounding the balcony, wickedly sharper than the decorative points on the jolly red rafters inside the Claussen.  The metal twisted at some intervals, torn away from their position by the tempest winds that often racked the Pole.

The white expanse of glacier spread out in front of Bunny.  The ice cliffs that mounted the Claussen barely peaked the horizon.  Bunny lifted his arms, on top of the world.  He clutched his hands into fists, before bringing them in to cup his mouth.

“JACK!” he screamed, his voice ripping across the chaotic serenity of ice.  “JAAAAAAAAACK!”

In answer, a bright, multicolored light burst into existence above Bunny’s head.  A loud boom sounded, rushing with a gust to pitch Bunny over the edge.  He clutched tightly to the railing, ignoring the frostbite that sank into his fingers.  The man stared up in awe at the Aurora, trailing it to its source.  The waves of color radiated from the tallest tower, high above the observatory.  They spread out in webs of wavering curtain, alighting the bright sky with wonder.  But with every wonder came a danger, and Bunny’s senses went on high alert, already weakened by his human form.

“Tooth!” he cried, racing indoors.

He didn’t bother to take the stairs, rushing the glass platform’s railing and launching himself over.  A feeling of weightless bliss filled his chest, while his stomach dropped.  He plummeted to the ground below, aiming for the bed.  His limbs fell separate from each other, creating a sense of relief, before Bunny leapt into action.  He saw the pile of books stacked from his mess, and aimed for a clear patch.  The landing enveloped him in sheets and hardcover books, but he bounced out of the bed, with barely a bruise on his skin.  Millennia of training allowed impossible feats, even in a less tolerant body.

He strode purposely through the barren hallways, hurrying for the Command Room.  He took the main staircase this time, loading himself into one of the many lifts lining the edge of the floor.  The gate rattled closed, and he pulled the lever.  With a lurch, the gears worked to move the metal container, bringing him across the inner workings of the workshop.    He peered through the grating at the empty workstations he passed, and the lack of activity throughout the entire building.  The eerie silence filled the lift, and he began to bounce on the balls of his feet, restless in discomfort.  As it climbed higher, a dull roar reached Bunny’s ears, growing with each passing moment.  He looked up, reaching a hand to the ceiling of the chamber, feeling the cool metal on his palm, vibrations of sound coursing through it.  He shifted his weight, reaching behind himself for a boomerang.  Emerald eyes locked on the door before him, ready to attack the oncoming storm.

As soon as the doors screeched open, ran out onto the main floor of the Command Room, only to be stopped by the large, impossible crowd surrounding the Globe of Belief.  Scores of yetis piled into the room, some leaking out into the corridors beyond and pushing into the extreme chaos that persisted.  Bunny nearly dropped the boomerang in his fist as he pushed through the crowd, the creatures jostling him from every angle.  He received an elbow in the ribs, another in the back, and then dodged a third, potentially vitally dangerous one aimed lower.  Towering above the rest on top of the control panel stood Phil, who caught sight of Bunny with a slight smirk in his beard, crossing his arms smugly.

“Phil!  The hell is all this?” Bunny shouted over the mob.

Phil raised his large, lumbering hands to cup his mouth, shouting out for silence in his language of vague grunts and garbles.  The room fell quiet immediately, all eyes fixated on Bunny.  The Australian shifted uncomfortably as the crowd parted around him, creating a clear path to Phil.  He trudged forward, sheathing his boomerang for the moment, and crossed his arms self-consciously across his chest.

He reached the foot of the control panel, and glanced up briefly at the large yeti.  “Mate, what’s going on here?”

A light fluttering filled the air, darting in the extreme speed of a hummingbird.  Bunny whipped around to only see a flash of teal blue feathers, dashed with streaks of yellow and purple, before a force of a giant brick smashed into him, pulling him into a deadly embrace.

“Oh, Bunny, I heard!” twittered Tooth’s excited voice from somewhere above his ear.  “I’m so happy for you!  But more for him, of course.  You have no idea how long he’s been pining over you, coming to me with all of his issues about ‘Bunny this’ and ‘Bunny that’.  I’m honestly surprised that it took this long, with how much he talks about you.  But he’s finally told you!”

“T-told me what?” Bunny protested through the feathers in his mouth.  He shoved the fairy off of him in a huff, his hand twitching to pull his boomerang out again.  But he restrained himself, and instead continued calmly, “I don’t know what this furball here told you, but Jack didn’t do anything except cause trouble.”  He winced at his words, remembering Jack’s and the guilt that accompanied them.

Tooth visibly deflated, hovering closer to the ground, her legs pulled up under her.   “W-what?  But I thought – I thought he kissed you!”

Bunny folded his arms, suddenly aware of the surrounding crowd.  A blush began to spread on his cheeks, and he huffed, “He did.”  Before Tooth could exclaim, he cut her off, “But then he left.”

Tooth’s crown of feathers stood at serious attention, annoyed rage coursing though her veins after a short bout of confusion.  “He did what?”

“He left, saying something about how he didn’t hope for things because the bloke’s got a head too big for his age,” Bunny said nonchalantly, gazing around the room before glancing back at the woman in front of him.  The sight made him cringe.

Tooth’s nailed fingers curled into claws, shaking with the need to rip something.  Teeth gritted, she turned away, fluttering madly in place, seething with annoyance.

“I swear, when I see that boy I’m going to knock his pearly whites down his throat…” she muttered darkly.  Bunny cowered from her, trying to shrink his large form into his overlarge boots.  But Tooth returned to reality, a sickly sweet smile on her face.  “Bunny, do you know where he is?” she asked in a voice far too innocent, even for her.

“No, like I said, he just left.”

Tooth’s smile dropped.  She whipped around to the yeti, who leapt down from the control panel to accommodate the intimidating fairy’s height.  “Phil, go get me North’s prototype transportation globe, _now_.”

Phil grumbled frantically, nodding as he ran to the lifts.

Bunny stared after him, before rounding on the woman.  “What, are you crazy?  Another bloody prototype globe, and you think it’s safe?”

“No, but it’s the only option we have.”

“Like hell it is!  I can find the Ice Block with my tunnels!”

“Not if he’s flying, you can’t.”

“Tooth–”

The fairy turned her murderous gaze on him, and he fell silent.  “Bunny, I am doing this to help you.  I was with North when he made this globe.  I know what it does.  And I know that only one malfunction could possibly happen with it, but it’s not deadly.  This globe has been tested: on me.  It’s no more a prototype than his regular snow globes.”

Bunny stared at her, his black eyebrows darting up into his short bangs.  “And when were you planning on telling me this?”

“It never came up; North’s creations don’t usually concern you,” Tooth said simply, lighting down to sit on the control panel, facing the yetis.  “Bunny, just go with it.”

“Why should I do this, when I can do it myself?” Bunny countered, leaning against the panel, ignoring the hundreds of pairs of eyes staring at him from the crowd.

Tooth sighed, her feathers falling back onto her head.  “How long have you liked Jack, Bunny?”

“W-what?” stuttered the Australian, “Who said anything about liking?  I-I never said that.”

His words met with a knowing smile.  “Jack has liked you for a really long time, Bunny, and we’ve all wanted him to be happy.  North only found out a few weeks ago, but him and I have been talking for months, and you’ve come up a number of times.”

“Really?” Bunny questioned, his curiosity getting the better of him.  “How many times?”

Tooth giggled, slightly, returning to her calm, controlled self.  “Once or twice.  Or maybe more.  It doesn’t matter, though, because you have the same feelings for him, right?”

The man shifted his gaze to his feet.  “I-I… I don’t know…” he answered quietly.  But he steeled himself, and lifted his head to meet Tooth’s purple eyes.   “But I need to find him.”

As if on cue, the lift clattered open, and the crowd parted again, letting Phil through.  Elves scattered around dizzily, directed only by the force of momentum as the lead yeti barged through.  He held in his hands one of the two remaining globes, the clear one with swirling snow.  It appeared as normal as ay snow globe, only bigger, and it radiated with energy.

Bunny eyed it suspiciously, ready to thump his foot at the first sign of danger.  “What’s so special about this thing anyway?”

Tooth fluttered to take the globe from the creature.  “Thank you, Phil.  This,” she gestured to Bunny, “is more precise than North’s regular globe.  For that, you have to focus on a specific location to be taken there, but it gets confused with regular ideas.  It’s like my fairies; because they are a part of me, they already know what I need when I send them out on missions.  North’s globes connect with his vague thoughts and analyze his most common destinations.  This globe, however, is able to focus on a specific living person, instead of a place.  It can find an idea, or a memory, even.”

“So… it can time travel?” Bunny asked with his eyebrow arched.

 “No, that’s ridiculous,” Tooth said, waving him off.  “The only being able to that is Father Time himself, and we haven’t seen him since he got sucked into the intergalactic time-space paradox rift.  No, this is much safer.”  Her smile didn’t comfort the shape-shifted Pooka at all.

Bunny cocked his chin, nodding at the tool with distaste.  “How does it work?”

“Just focus on whom or what you want to go to, and it will open a portal there,” Tooth stated, placing the globe in his rough hand.  The smooth glass felt cool in his fingers, foreboding, even.

Bunny stared at the swirling snow, thinking hard in concentration.  All the yetis crowded in, bating their breath for any sign of a change.  Tooth leaned forward, a huge, pearly-white smile plastered on her face, with Baby Tooth fluttering around her excitedly.  After an eternity, Bunny gave a groan to the air.

“This is stupid!  What the bloody hell am I supposed to do?”

The yetis all groaned, and Baby Tooth fell to rest on Tooth’s shoulder.  Tooth gave her a reassuring frown, before approaching Bunny cautiously.

“Bunny,” she murmured, lifting him from under his chin, “Just think of Jack.  Think about everything you know about him, everything you love about him, or hate about him.  Don’t worry; we’ll find him.”

Bunny looked at her curiously, the smallest amounts of hope filling his chest.  He nodded, turning back to the globe.

The images floated into his mind like fresh snow, white as the fur on Jack’s body.  He saw the pale skin underneath, shining in the ice and firelight.  The ice blue eyes glittered devilishly, infuriating Bunny with the accompanying smirk.  His emerald eyes found shape in the snow globe, the whirling flakes creating the picture of mischief.  Bubbling laughter filled Bunny’s chest, and yet he knew the sense of loneliness, millennia’s worth of it pouring from his heart.  Through all the sadness, the hopelessness, hope bloomed.  And with the flower sprouted Joy, overcoming the obstacles set before it; the jagged ice knives tearing at the sky above.    All black sand dispersed, and a single snowflake shattered.

A loud whir began to rattle the globe, shaking in Bunny’s fist.  With a yelp, he dropped it, and it fell to the ground, shattering into a small twister of magical dust.  The pieces came together, creating the mural of Jack’s form, the Pooka flying along, oblivious to the portal opening behind him.  He flew above an evergreen forest carpeted with snow, and still frozen tears pricked at his eyes.  Those beautiful, wonderful ice blue eyes that made Bunny leap for the image immediately, regardless of the workshop around him, not hearing the roaring cheer of the yetis and the triumphant whoop from Tooth.

He passed through the portal with a sickening twist.  The air around him compressed with a pop, sending him shooting through.

He barely had time to scream the name, “JACK!” before he crashed into the boy, embracing him as they plummeted to the earth below.


	10. Blizzard

The ground approached quickly, speeding towards the pair as they fell.  Bunny kept his eyes on the snow as it approached, the individual crystals glittering in the sunlight.  They fanned out beneath them, as if opening to give way to another tunnel.  But Bunny summoned nothing without touching the earth itself, and he flew high, high above his domain.

Jack screamed into his shoulder, muzzle buried in his neck.  His fur brushed against Bunny’s skin, causing shivers that only intensified with the biting wind that scraped against his face, tossing them through the air, the unstable being trying to save Jack without regard to his protector.  With eyes watering, Bunny struggled to right them, but Jack’s rabbit legs kicked against him, sending them into a tumble.

Bunny gripped the Pooka in his arms, not letting go, finally resorting to cower away from the force of gravity.  He tucked his head in next to Jack’s, and murmured softly as they fell.  The winter sprite’s shouts fell silent, listening to the gentle tone of the Australian.

“Bunny?” he voiced incredulously, barely heard over the roaring wind.

Jack grunted, wedging his staff from its trapped position between the two.  With his power restored, he called on the wind to scoop them away.  It complied, but only just.  It swept under their feet, spinning them like a pinwheel, as they met the hard ground.  They landed on a rise, and tumbled down the sloped surface.  Bunny’s arms released at the contact with the cold, shock coursing through his limbs before the broken pain arrived in short spurts of bruises and jolts.  He yelped a high whine as he hit a tree, abruptly stopping in his descent.  The shaken branches released their shelf of snow to pour down on Bunny’s battered body.

With an enraged roar, he burst from the pile, spraying snow into the forest around him.  He huffed, eyes seeing red, glaring beyond through the woods for any sign of attack.  Slowly, he calmed down, blinking away his confusion from his fall.  He whipped around, gazing into the bright green foliage, searching.

“Jack?” he called, “Jack, where are you?”

He took off into the woods, weaving between rough bark and low-hanging evergreen needles.  He tried scenting for the boy, only to find his senses dimmed in his human form.  His tan skin stood out from the snow, his black boots becoming soaked on the surface with melted snow.  He shivered, clutching his bare arms as he continued downhill.  The trees towered above him, and for a moment, he feared Jack caught in one of them.  But he dismissed the notion, knowing full well the true weight of a Pooka.

The trees began to thin out, the trunks spread further apart.  Shallow patches of snow opened up to reveal rock beneath them, cold to the touch, but unfelt through Bunny’s boots.  Flakes of snow fell gently from the bare branches of oaks and elm trees, the flower buds closed, even this late into spring.  A vague idea of location dawned on Bunny, and he quicken his pace, recognizing the area.

He emerged onto a rock outcropping above a frozen lake: Jack’s lake.  The sky above held small clouds, creating a serene atmosphere for skaters and the occasional wanderer.  Tendrils of frost spread across from the center of the ice, where a white heap of fur lay.

“Jack!”

Bunny climbed around to the edge of the lake, nearly scraping his knees on the sharp ledges of rock.  He hesitated, before stepping out on the ice carefully.  Seeing it sturdy, he quickly slid over to Jack’s form.

The boy only feigned unconsciousness, and met Bunny’s emerald gaze with an icy blue glare, eyebrows furrowed in anger.  With a groan, he sat up, stretching his bruised muscles as if waking from a nap.

Bunny began to speak, “Jack, I–”

“Save it, Bunny,” Jack snapped, “I don’t want to talk to you.”  Not a second passed before he continued, “Are you insane?  What the hell were you doing?  How did you even get up there?  You’re lucky I slid out on the ice.  Were you even thinking?”

Bunny balled his hands into fists, resisting the urge to punch the boy.  “You’re one to talk, mate!  What the bloody hell were you thinking, running off like that?  And you say you want to be alone?  No, that’s what a gumby does when he wants someone to follow him.  So here I am, Frostbite.  What did you want to say to me?”

Jack averted his eyes, folding his arms protectively around his staff.  “I said goodbye.  I thought that made it clear I was leaving.”

“No, it really didn’t, because you kissed me.”

The outburst came before he could stop it, “I left because I thought you would hate me!”  He clapped a paw over his muzzle, his eyes wide and fearful.

Bunny faltered, gazing at the vulnerable Jack.  He saw the boy’s stance, cowering closer to his staff, trying to become one with the frozen wood.  His ears lay flat against his head, scared and helpless.  But Bunny knew Jack.  He knew that the winter sprite could never be helpless, could never be completely open like this.  And that showed the mistake that the boy thought he made.

Bunny rushed forward on the solid ice, grabbing Jack in his bruised arms.  He ignored the groaning protests of his injuries, only pulling the boy closer.  He buried his head in Jack’s shoulder to take in the scent of clean, cool snow, and the wonderful joy that accompanied it in the soft fur.  Jack’s back shook with surprise, but the chill of ice on Bunny’s ice shocked him to the realization of Jack’s tears.  A flare of Hope hit him in the gut, and Bunny stood, keeping his hands on Jack’s shoulders.

“Jack,” he breathed, kneeling down to the Pooka’s height.  He wiped away the tears with his thumb.  “Frostbite, I could never hate you, not now, and not ever.”

Jack sniffed, wiping his nose on his arm, and nodded.

“Jack,” Bunny started, “I l–”

“JACKSON OVERLAND FROST!” cried a shrill voice from the tops of the trees lining the pond.

The pair whipped around, Jack lifting his head to see Tooth fluttering angrily.  She zoomed down, oblivious to the conversation, before knocking Jack onto the ice and cornering him.  He hit the surface with a grunt, wincing before opening his eyes and flinching at the sight of the fairy.  Her nails dug into the frozen cold, claws sharp enough to kill.

She leaned in close, her crown of plumage flaring out in intimidation.  Sharp rage filled her expression, the variety of the worst kind: motherly protection.

“You have two seconds to explain yourself, young man, before I claw your teeth right out of your mouth!”  Jack opened his mouth to protest, but she grabbed his shoulders and slammed him back down onto the ice.  “What were you thinking?  Why would you leave?  You are such an idiot!  It makes me so mad, I can’t stand it!”  She released him, darting away, still in a rage.  Jack stood, terrified.  Bunny began to move to protect him, but Tooth caught the motion from the corner of her eye.

“Bunny!  Give me an egg grenade!”

The man blinked, confused.  “W-wait, did I hear you right?  You want a bloody grenade?  Hell no!”

“Bunny, give it to me now, or I’ll take it by force!”

Bunny folded his arms, clutching his bandolier like a lifeline.  “You are not touching my stuff!”

“That’s it!” Tooth cried, before cawing an inhuman screech and descending on the poor Australian.  He yelped, throwing his hands up to protect himself, but Tooth’s fingers darted straight for his bandolier.  “Here!”

The clear ball sailed through the air.  The smallest of the snow globes, the one with the single, intricate, crystal snowflake, the one Bunny stole with his own, crashed down onto the ice.  It cracked like a marble, shards of glass becoming chips of ice that flew across the smooth surface before exploding.

A tornado erupted from the wrecked snowflake, whipping into existence from nothing.  Winds tore at Bunny’s face, and Tooth slammed against the ice.  A blizzard tore from the sky, sudden storm clouds spewing snow into a tempest.  The blades of ice and wind cut at the lake, nearly cracking the ice.  A large rift split open between Bunny’s legs, and he yelped.

“Get off the ice!”

He leapt to catch Tooth’s battered body, carrying her while fighting against wind.  A gust lifted his feet into the air, and he tumbled into the snow bank roughly, the snow burning against his bare skin.  He hugged Tooth in his arms, his thoughts on Jack, as he waited for the storm to pass.

With an earsplitting crack, the surface of the lake crumbled, the ice whirling into the air, deadly projectiles waiting for a target.  As suddenly as the storm began, it stopped, the shards dropping to the ground, shattering like the glass that shielded their power to kill.

Bunny looked up, brushing the snow from his head.  He took the unconscious Tooth in his arms and laid her down gently, before looking to the lake.  A large hole gaped in the center of the lake, the edges jagged with sharp fractures.  A wooden staff lay next to it, still and silent as the core inside it.  No ice glittered on the wood.

* * *

 

Darkness.  Everywhere he turned, only darkness met his eyes.  He searched, looking for a memory, a lost sign of something, anything that would give him life.  He closed his eyes, trying to find color in his mind, an escape from the cold chill that surrounded his body.  He fought the fear, stemming it, shoving it away, and fighting from the choking terror that filled his lungs like water.

Then, he felt warmth coursing through him, hard and yet still gentle.  The firm grip of reality held him tight, sending him away into his dreams with the blessing of life.

Passing slowly through his mind, he saw North.  The man held out a doll, smaller than his palm, and placed it in his pale hand.  His center shined with a blue brilliance, light like the ice he created with his vision.  The white hair framed he pale face, plastered with a mischievous smirk, his wooden staff twinkling with the snow of early morning’s frost.

In a moment of carelessness, it fell from his pocket onto the mossy ground of the Warren.  He stood with Bunny, watching the progression of millions of eggs as they made their way for the tunnels.  Five years, and still Bunny felt the paranoia of Pitch’s Easter destruction in the back of his mind, not that Jack blamed him.  The colorful waterfall of fragility, worth more than all of the world’s diamonds, deserved the utmost protection, and so Jack complied, much with Bunny’s reluctant annoyance.

“Oi, mate, you dropped something,” came the deep tone of the Pooka next to him.

Jack glanced down and scooped it up in his palm, his thin fingers curling around the wooden doll gently.  “Oh, thanks.  Wouldn’t want to lose that.”

“What is it?” Bunny asked, approaching the winter sprite from the side.  He peered over Jack’s shoulder down at his fist that almost thrust into his pocket at the sudden closeness.

Instead, Jack smiled at the Pooka, opening his hand to show him the intricate painting.  He said, with a slight gloating in his voice, “North gave it to me.”

The bragging tone didn’t escape Bunny, and he sat back on his hind legs, his own variety of a smirk plastered on his face.  “Did he now?  And what’s your center?”

“W-what?”

“Oh, come off it, mate.  North gave us all one of those.  He paid special attention to yours though; I’ll give you that.  I’ve never seen a man work that fast on a doll in my life, not even during Christmas rush hour.”

Jack almost breathed a sigh of relief, his immature jealousy dimming in his chest.  “It took me awhile, but I guess he figured it out before I did.  It’s Fun, that’s my center.”

Bunny snorted, and Jack shot him a dirty look.  The Guardian of Hope held up his hands in defense.  “What?  I just thought you would have gone deeper than that.”

Jack folded his arms, a chill emitting from his skin.  “Oh yeah?  It’s my center.  Besides, Fun brings joy to children.”

“Still, mate,” continued Bunny, chuckling and shaking his head.  He raised his emerald eyes, so familiar to Jack, and said, “I always thought you were more than that.  I think your center is Joy itself.  I respect you, Frostbite, I really do.”

And in that moment, Jack felt the first flutter in his chest.

“Whoops, looks like it’s time to start heading out,” Bunny stated, leaping to the ground from the outcropping.

Jack shook his head, a soft smile playing across his lips.  He took to the air, darting for the tunnels.  “Catch up, Cottontail!”

“What did I say about racing a rabbit, mate?” laughed the Pooka, before he dropped onto all fours, dashing after the winter sprite.

Jack snickered, disappearing into the dark tunnels.  The cool earth surrounded him, and he felt only pure bliss.  He whooped, hearing the sound of padded footsteps fade into the distance.  Jack looked down to see the rainbows of color.

Eggshells covered the earth.

Suddenly, a low-hanging vine whipped into existence, smacking Jack in the face.  With a shout, he fell flat on his back, heaving for breath.  He heard the crunch of shells underneath him, and cringed, before groaning and sitting up.

He stood, gazing around himself into the dark.

“Bunny?”

Only silence greeted his call.  He took a step, staff at the ready.  An eggshell cut into his toe, and he hissed in pain, hopping on one foot before crashing into the wall.  The earth poured down onto him, covering his chest.  Jack stumbled out of the pile, dusting himself off.

“Bunny, what’s going on?”

A low rumble began to shake the tunnel, and Jack looked to the ceiling in fear.  Dirt rained down in small chunks, covering the graveyard of eggs.  With a crash, the side of the tunnel back to the Warren fell, creating a wall of earth.  Jack yelled, and turned away, running for the surface.  Another roar sounded, and another avalanche of dirt covered Jack’s route.

He pounded on the solid barriers, screaming for help.  “Bunny!  Bunny, help!  Help me!  Bunny!”

The rumbling grew to a crescendo, and the tunnel heaved with the force of change.

Darkness.

“Wake up, Jack!”


	11. Moonlight

Ice melted, becoming tears in the lake.  The shards cracked and drifted apart in fragments of lost sanity and nightmares.  Finding the blinding shreds of hope glittering along the edges of glass broke the surface, and the eyes slid shut, closing off the reserves of light from the world, blinking against the icy torrent of water that attacked the dying spirit.  And soon all the light faded to darkness.

“Wake up, Jack!”

Gasping, the lakes refroze, snapping open with a jolt of electricity through the shards.  Jack looked up into the flushed face of Bunny.  His mind barely registered the bare, tanned skin and the sopping wet hair before the man embraced him, pulling him against a freezing chest, shivering in part from cold, but racked with gasps of shaking relief.  Hesitating, Jack moved his aching arms, encased in ice that cracked with every shift, to touch Bunny’s back hesitantly.  With that single touch, the memories flooded back, and claws raked into soft skin, clinging for dear life and flinching away from the frozen lake below.

He looked over his shoulder in fear, before stuttering, “I-I-I almost – I almost died!  I almost died again!”  He repeated the words to himself in a slightly awed whisper, still in shock from the experience.

Bunny choked out, “I d-dived in after you…  Oh, Jack… Thank MiM…”

“C-can we g-get off the ice?”

Bunny nodded, standing weakly despite the protests of his frozen legs, stumbling over to the snow bank.  He leaned on the rocks surrounding the side of the lake, still holding the white Pooka in his arms.

“W-wait!  My staff!”

The Australian hesitated, looking back and shuddering from the cold.  He felt reluctance to leave, but obliged, setting Jack down gently on the rock shelf, before rushing back to retrieve the gnarled wood.  He slid across the ice, stumbling in his hurry, before he barreled back to the shore.  At the last moment he slipped, a startled yelp as the klutzy fall took control, tackling into Jack and knocking him off the rock.

They tumbled back into the snow, bruised limbs aching with every touch, but they fought for the contact, relief coursing through their veins, never letting go.  Bunny landed on top, pushing Jack down gently by his shoulders, before he peppered light kisses on the winter sprite’s face, the recovered staff abandoned in the clouds beside them.  In return, Jack clutched at the tan skin, not processing the actions taking place.  Bunny eventually slowed, resigning to lie down next to Jack, the cold setting in once again.  The pair remained still for a moment, Jack content, breathing heavily as his mind slowed in its thoughts.  Soon, the muscular form atop him began to shudder, the early onset of hypothermia rattling in the bones, and Bunny coughed roughly.

Jack looked at him, feeling rejuvenated by the cold around him.  “Bunny?”

The Australian pushed himself up weakly.  “W-we should get back to the Claussen.  I-I’ll get T-Tooth.”

The fairy remained unconscious in the snow, her feathers turning a nasty sheen of blue from the cold around her.  Jack nearly shuddered at the thought, but knelt down next to her, barely feeling any pain in his immortal body.

“I’ve got her.  You worry about yourself,” he said, bending down to pick her up.  He frowned, as the words escaped his lips, not ready to worry just yet.  Too much relief pulsed in his chest, the high not descending at the thought of danger.

Bunny started to protest, but Jack thumped the earth, sending them both into a tunnel, leaving a frozen flower in his wake, frosted on the petals like delicate lace.  It glittered momentarily, before shattering into the air, drifting on the North Wind.

* * *

 

Tooth lie in the infirmary, wrapped in blankets thick enough to melt Antarctica.  She breathed softly, watched over by the ever-watchful Sandy, who refused to leave her side until absolutely necessary.  The sheets rose gently with the motion of breathing, the most obvious sign of life that allowed the Sandman to relax.  Her body temperature slowly returned to normal, aided by her immortality.  After hearing of the incident at the lake, Sandy only hoped her temper restored itself too.

He gazed out the window of the small hospital room, across the hall at Jack and Bunny.  They occupied the single bed, Bunny resigned to sit still while Jack fretted over his wounds.  The boy’s focus whipped from fear to concern in mere seconds, fuzzing over every scratch and bruise on the other male’s body.  Sandy smiled at the scene, the fruits of the whole situation finally coming to light.

Jack sat cross-legged, fumbling with the gauze roll in his hand, struggling to wrap it around Bunny’s arm.  The Australian felt every reason not to assist, so Jack had to lift the arm on every rotation.

“I’m telling you, mate, I’m fine.  You’re the one you need to be worried about,” sighed the man, once again, knowing the words wouldn’t sway the anxious teenager.

“I’wm fwine,” grunted Jack through the bandages held in his teeth. He cut through them with a swift bite, before continuing, “The cold healed me.  You, however, are another story.”  He tightened the bandage with a firm pull.

“Oi!” Bunny yelped, wincing and raising his hand to stop Jack’s.  “Watch it, Frostbite!”

“I know what I’m doing,” came the gruff response.  His black eyebrows contrasted against his fur, furrowed in concentration while he tied the bandage off.  He began to prod Bunny’s skin, looking for any more damage to take care of.  His nose twitched as he looked.  Only innocent curiosity shined in his eyes, even at the close quarters.  “I had to do this almost every day for my family.”

“Did you, now?”

“Yeah, you would’ve loved them,” the boy joked, “Each of them contained more trouble than I do in my little finger.”  To accentuate his point, Jack shocked Bunny with a jolt of frost, chuckling when the older man flinched.  His laughed trailed off with a hint of sadness tailing it.

“You had siblings?” asked Bunny, trying to move the conversation onto happier memories.

Jack nodded, pouring an antiseptic onto his paw before lathering it onto a large bruise on Bunny’s back.  “I had a sister, and I can’t remember everything, but I think I had some brothers as well.  But that might have just been the village.  It’s all foggy in some patches.”

“So what do you remember?” Bunny winced again at the cold air as it hit the cream rubbed into his back.  The soft rags of bandages shielded him momentarily, the pads of Jack’s paws moving swiftly around his shoulder and under his arm.

“I know that I was older than most of the kids, so I ended up watching them a lot.  And I remember rubbing a little bit of my devilish self off onto them,” he added with a snicker, “They were evil, alright, but they always got caught.  I got away with a lot of things, especially pranking the elders.  They were easy, most of the time.  I wonder what happened to them…”

“You don’t know?”

“No.  MiM sealed me under the ice for a few years.  I didn’t realize it then, but looking back, I think my sister was an adult when I finally woke up.  It’s weird, imagining her older than me.  She got married, had some kids…  And she was really pretty, too.  I remember following her around a lot, but I didn’t know she was my sister.  MiM, she was beautiful…” Jack fell silent, and Bunny didn’t need to turn around to see the sad smile creeping across his face.

“You watched her pass away, didn’t you?”

“…Yeah, I did.  She got sick in her early sixties.  She had a full life, though, so I don’t worry about it too much.”

Bunny took the boy’s paw in his firm hand, stopping his motions.  He looked over his shoulder, meeting the boy’s blue eyes, and said solemnly, “I don’t think she could ever forget you.”

Jack held the gaze for a moment, before looking away, light frost sparking at the tufts of fur on his cheeks.  He cleared his throat, “So, um, what about you?  What was your life before…?” He trailed off, not wanting to say the words.

_Pitch Black._

Bunny looked away, his expressions hardening.  Jack felt his shoulders tense, but continued to work, pretending not to notice.

“It was wonderful.”  The words came out forced, pained, and he stopped there.

Jack’s hands slowed, but he continued, wrapping the bandages lower to secure them.  He trailed them across Bunny’s broad back, having to reach around to pull them against Bunny’s chest.  The Australian shivered at the sensation of light fur on his back, feeling odd being the one cared for.  So many millennia ago, he remembered the sentiment, like a distant dream long forgotten.  The long years he spent being the protector, defending his home and his creation, drove the need to the back of his mind.  No, the necessity of his wellbeing fell short to the importance of innocence.  Either that, or fade away, becoming the weak rodent, incapable and helpless to preserve his own life.  His entire being consisted of those he cared about, and so he couldn’t let anyone care for him.  No one deserved that pain, that fear of losing it all in a single moment.

“Bunny.”  Jack’s light voice drove Bunny’s fears away.  “It’s hard, to watch people die, I know.  I’ve spent so much time around Burgess, becoming attached to some people and then just watching them age.  I’ve left for years at a time, refusing to stay in one place for long, but Burgess I always came back to.  Bunny,” he turned the man around, who refused to meet him in the eye, and stated, serious, “I understand that you don’t want to talk about it.  But you can’t just keep it locked away forever.”

“I love you.”

The emerald eyes widened, shocked at the words that escaped their own lips.  Jack only stared back, not able to reply, mouth agape with buckteeth showing in every comical way possible.  A slow, hesitant smile pulled at the edges, and an impossible Hope flared in the winter sprites chest, glowing through the skin in Bunny’s vision.  The Australian nodded, confirming his own surprise, and he grinned.

“I love you, Frostbite.”

Jack rushed forward into Bunny’s arms, inexperience clashing their lips together.  They kissed, hastily, hesitantly, and with every passion of pain and happiness combined.  Bunny ignored the aching of his limbs, falling back as Jack landed on top of him, eyes closed with the relief and Joy.  Jack’s arms wrapped around Bunny.  The older man replied by pulling him closer, but they soon separated, breathing heavily.  The largest grin to ever grace the winter sprite’s face completed the beautiful portrait of the snowy Pooka, and Bunny could only laugh at the pure bliss that covered them both.

“I love you too, Cottontail.”

Sandy smiled, watching as the friends became lovers, before turning back to Tooth’s unconscious form.  He frowned, noting her stats once again, and then tucked the sheets in around her.  Putting his hands on his hips, he huffed in satisfaction and turned to leave the room.  North needed to be checked on as well.

But Sandy took one glance at the unconscious man before drifting past the window.  He saw the heartbeat monitor beep its steady rhythm.  He noticed the lack of change in the Russian’s features.  If anything, North looked as if attacked by Medusa, turned to stone in his own fortress of wonder and motion.  Sandy shook his head, continuing for the central atrium of the Claussen.

Because of the search for Jack, the past few hours wasted away in the panic of all of the Guardians, save for Sandy, being out of commission.  Now, the panic shifted to the severe backlash in toy production, and the yetis raced around, dodging past each other in the halls.  But a lack of energy penetrated the workshops, and the slow pace of dull wonder-less tinkering only strengthened that fact.  The workers painted with slow hands, resting their cheeks on fists and ignoring the small details.  Absentminded yetis bumped into walls, not caring to look over the stacks of boxes and books in their large, furred arms.  No toys flew through the atrium.  No moonlight lit the now evening arctic air.  The Claussen needed its master; it awaited him with open arms.

Silently sighing, the golden man floated high above the rest of the crowds, and dived over the edge of the balcony.  He fell for a few floors before stopping and leaping back onto carpeted floor.  He padded softly across the hallway, making small leaps with his short legs.  He approached the broken doorway to North’s personal workshop.

The room lay in shambles from the night before.  Sharp chunks of broken wood scattered around the room, wedging into small corners and dangerous crannies.  Sandy floated over the smashed doorway, curiously gazing at the permafrost that coated its surface.  A worktable flipped over, crumbled ice underneath it, and the many mobiles had fallen from the ceiling.  Only North’s desk remained undamaged, pushed far enough away from the broken windowpane, and slightly shielded from the door.  Hints of gold sand glittered over the whole room, but one light shone brighter than the rest.

The beam shot from atop North’s desk, unnoticed until it hit Sandy in the eye.  Blinking, the man looked over, wrinkling his nose at the sudden light.  He crossed the room, bobbing over piles of torn wood and wreckage, coming to a stop in front of the table.  Curiously, he reached down, picking up the globe.

The glass seemed almost non-existent, the sphere completely made up of white light, solidified into a glowing ball of energy.  It shined like a star, arcing against its shell in sweeps, electricity sparking out, creating the only presence of its limitations to the world.  It vibrated in Sandy’s palm.  The sifting noises of his sand grew in excitement as he stared down into it.

He scrambled for the desk, looking at the scraps of blueprint, fighting to find the right one.  The wreckage made it nearly impossible to read, but he sorted through anyway.  Some of the papers crumbled to frozen ash in his hands, while others were smudged beyond recognition.  Finally, though, he found a corner piece, with a neatly written label printed in North’s swirling, formal handwriting.

_Moonlight_

He sifted around for pieces of the plans, coming up with a small diagram.  Chunks of the globe and the text around it were missing, but he read what he could.  His eyes widened, and a slow smile spread across his face.  The paper shook in his hands, crumpling where he clutched it in excitement.

He made a rapid dash for the doorway, leaping over the balcony as he took flight once again.

* * *

 

Meanwhile, Jack resumed his caring of Bunny’s bruise, much to the older man’s continued annoyance.

“Mate, can’t we talk about this for one second?”

Jack shook his head, grinning devilishly and knowing the effect of his insisting protection.  “We can talk after you’re bandaged.  Don’t worry; this is the last one.”

With a snap of gauze, he placed the roll on the table next to the bed, and tightened the bandage around Bunny’s chest.

The Australian breathed a sigh of finality.  “Thank MiM,” he said.  Then he turned to face the Pooka.  “So, how is this all going to work out?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” huffed the man, “Are you going to come live in the Warren with me?  And what about our jobs?  Would you be able to live there?”

Jack only laughed, throwing his head back.  He leaned his head against Bunny’s shoulder and hugged his arm, careful of the bruise.  “You think too much, Cottontail.”

Bunny grumbled, “I just thought…”

“If it makes you feel any better,” came the soft voice of the winter sprite, “Yeah, I’ll live with you.”  He pecked Bunny’s cheek before standing up.  “We’re going to have to move my books, though.”

Bunny gawked at him.  “What, all of them?  How the bloody hell do you expect them to fit?”

“We’ve got tunnels, right?  And your Warren is huge!  We could fit tons of books in there.”

“But I don’t have a library!”

Jack smirked, playfully replying, “We have an eternity to build one.”

“You sure get cheery fast,” commented Bunny.  He crossed his arms in mock anger.  “Fine, but only if you promise to stay.”  His words shook slightly with the hidden fear.

Jack frowned and crossed over to Bunny, kneeling down in front of him.  His ears lay back against his head, and his paws rested on Bunny’s knees.  “Bunny,” he said quietly, “I’m not going to leave again.  I promise.”

The man opened his mouth to reply, but they both turned as a knock sounded at the infirmary window.  Sandy floated there, looking nearly out of breath, for a being that didn’t very well need to breathe.  Bunny stood, and Jack backed away, before they both rushed to the door, throwing it open in haste.

“Sandy, what is it!” cried Jack, Bunny peering over his shoulder curiously.

The man held up his hand with the Moonlight globe in it.  The light bounced off of the walls, and Jack blinked, allowing his vision to clear.  He gazed at it in wonder, but Bunny pushed past him.  He regarded the sphere with apprehension.

“What, another one of those bloody globes?  What the hell do you expect us to do, you gumby?”

Sandy only puffed his cheeks, a moon symbol appearing over his head.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

The symbols began to appear in rapid succession: a Pooka, a snowflake, North, a question mark, a whirlwind, and then the sand just flashed into a storm of flurried notes, too fast to follow.

“Mate, we won’t have anything to do with any more globes.”

“Bunny, he’s trying to explain!”

“Love, I’m telling you, Snowflake.  They’re too dangerous.”

“It’s the last one!  I remember it!  Think–”

“No!” Bunny threw his hands up.  “We’re not going to waste another second on these stupid globes!  They’re nothing but bad news!”

“Bunny, wait!  Just listen, all right?  There’re nine, right?  Five for each of us, the guardians, and then that black one for Pitch.  That leaves three.  One of them changed us, and then another nearly killed North!  That’s the last one!  What do you think it would do?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t care!  I don’t care if it’s a globe from MiM himself; we are not using it!”

“But it is from MiM!”

“Come off it; that’s ridiculous.”

“No, just think–”

Sandy looked between the two, having given up on trying to talk.  He balled his fists in anger, and then looked down to the globe in his hands.  Only one thing to do, now.  He threw it, and it smashed against the floor.

“Sandy, what the bloody hell are you– AHH!”

It exploded with a sonic boom.  Gusts of air whipped away, throwing the group against the windows.  A dull heat burst forth and washed over the hallways.  White arcs of light shot into the air.  The flash blinded Jack, and he shielded his vision as it faded.  He blinked spots away, before gazing around in disbelief.

All throughout the Claussen, sparks fell gently from the air.  Righting himself, he rushed down the hall, tailed closely by Bunny and Sandy.  He emerged into the atrium, and bent over the railing to look up at the skylight above the Globe of Belief.  The light drifted down like snowflakes, as if touched by the moon itself.  They passed through the wood and metal structures without pause, whirling slowly into the halls.

Jack reached out to touch a passing spark.  It hit his paw, and melted into his fur.  His whole body began to glow, and the sparks began to swarm him.

“B-Bunny!  Bunny, what’s happening to me?” he exclaimed, backing away as he gazed at his body.

Everywhere the light touched, white fur began to fall off of him in tufts, the strands drifting down and disappearing before they hit the floor.  His ears began to disintegrate, blowing away from his form like dust.  The pads on his hands faded, melting back into his skin.  His pale complexion began to show through, the creamy skin frozen by shock.  His bare stomach exposed to the world, he backed against the wall, not sure to be scared or inviting.

Bunny reached out for him in alarm, but pulled back as another spark fell on him.  Dark grey hair began to sprout with each drop, and he looked at it in wonder, frightened.  The light shown in his eyes, and he suddenly felt uncomfortably hot in his clothes.  He ripped off his shirt in a panic, the green fabric falling abandoned on the ground.  Fur began to grow alarmingly, covering his muscled chest.  His tail puffed out on his back, and he tugged his pants off quickly, barely a glimpse of tanned skin showing before he was clothed in his natural covering.

The light faded, and the two looked at each other.  Jack gazed at Bunny’s Pooka form, and Bunny’s eyes slid over Jack’s pale face.  A laugh escaped Jack first, and they crashed together into a tight, warm embrace.

“We’re back!  You’re back!” cried Jack, happy tears gracing his eyes.

“You’re human!” Bunny said, burying his furred face into Jack’s neck.  “You’re so small…” he commented, taking in the scent of creamy white skin and clean snow.

“You have fur!” Jack said, oblivious to the nuzzling until he squeaked in surprise.

“Uh, mate… You’re also naked.”

“What?” Jack flinched away, looking down at himself, before hugging his staff closer.

Bunny only laughed, and pulled the sprite in for another hug.  He subconsciously shielded Jack’s form from Sandy, his protective instincts showing through.

“Bunny! Jack!” came a loud, booming voice from the infirmary wards.

North burst into the hallway, bandages torn from his head in rags and his sabers brandished before him.  Tooth followed behind him.  She fluttered nervously, but when she saw Jack, she dived for him.  Bunny stamped in front of her, blocking the naked teenager from view.

“Oh no you don’t Sheila.  You are not laying another nail on my mate!”

“Mate?” questioned the fairy, confused.  Then her face broke out into a pearly white grin.  She dodged around Bunny and embraced the boy.  “Oh, you finally worked out!  I’m so happy for you two!  Oh, I have to tell the fairies!  We have to have a wedding!  YOU’RE GOING TO GET MARRIED!”

Jack shrugged her off quickly, hiding behind Bunny again.  Bunny eyed her cautiously.

“Pooka don’t have weddings,” he stated, causing the woman to frown.

“Cavity,” she commented, sticking her tongue out at him.

North slid his sabers back into their sheaths, smiling softly.  “Good job, old friend,” he said, patting Bunny’s shoulder.  “Now, down to business.”

“Wait, North; are you sure you’re okay?”

“And why wouldn’t I be?”

Jack peeked around Bunny’s side.  “Well, you kind of nearly killed all of us.”

“Ah, but that was before Manny!  Manny saved us!”  He gestured up to the skylight above.  The group all peered out.  North dipped his head, giving a mock salute.  “And for that, I thank you.”  He turned back to the rest of the Guardians.  “Now, I have to find yetis!  Phil!  Where are you, Phil?”

The man travelled down the hallway, leaving his companions in wonder and confusion.

“Is… he going to be okay?” asked Jack.

“He better be,” game the gruff reply.  The two noticed Tooth off to the side, bouncing in the air.  “What?”

She exploded, hugging both of them.  “Oh, I’m just so happy for both of you!  I just can’t believe it’s finally happening!  There’s so much to plan!  We have to have a party, and streamers, and sugar-free cake!  Oh, you have to let me help decorate your house!”

Bunny pushed her off again.  “We already have a house, Sheila.  Besides, it’s yours I would be more worried about.”

“What do you mean?”  Tooth cocked her head, and then her eyes widened.  “What did you do to my room?”

Bunny only laughed, sweeping Jack into his arms.  “Come on, love, let’s go get you some clothes.”

“Bunny, you don’t have to carry me!”

“But I want to,” he replied, dashing down the hall.

“You get back here, you two!” Tooth cried, racing after them.

Sandy only watched on, an amused smile on his face.  He looked back up to the moon, and nodded, before floating gently down the hall with the others.  With a slight glow, maybe a refraction of the light, the moon winked back.


	12. Epilogue

Reconstruction of North’s office began almost immediately.  Simultaneously, Jack began his move out of the Claussen.  The Russian looked on the packing with a sad eye; he’d grown close to Jack in the relatively short time they’d lived together.  He felt a sense of remorse at seeing the boy go.  All birds left the nest, however.  If only Jack were a yeti.  Then he’d be able to stay and work in the shops for Christmas!  But North knew the return trips planned.  Holiday visits, parties, the usual; all set in order for some more family bonding between the Guardians.

Sighing, North piled himself into the lift and pulled the firm lever, sliding seamlessly on its well-oiled tracks to the floor marker.  The familiar rattle of the gate relaxed the man, and the elevator shifted into motion.  His thoughts receded to the back of his mind as he approached the railing and gazed out over the workshop through the metal bars.  Flying warships, UFOs, dropped toys from flights above, all tumbling through the air, never impeding on the lift’s course.  The Claussen fell back into its normal unorganized organization, with chaos ensuing in its own fashion.  From below, North heard the pained scream of a yeti, and he winced.

“Watch out for Lego!” he called out of the lift.  Despite himself, he laughed, a full bellow that erased his thoughts of all negativity.

The lift came to a stop on North’s floor, and he exited, walking down the hallway to his workshop.

The windows remained open to the air outside, the panes removed as he repaired them, wanting to add some detail into the stained glass.  Jack made sure to keep the skies clear of any blizzards, and North thanked him for that.  The chill air fought constantly into the room, but the Russian countered it with the blazing fire that he kept going all hours in the Arctic.  It lit the room with a warm glow, contrasting the cold gusts through his beard.

North couldn’t help but compare it to Jack and Bunny’s relationship.

With another worn sigh, he crossed the office.  Restored tables stood in their usual niches, and rafters held up the ceiling with firm supports.  The torn toys and crumbled sculptures lay atop the smooth surfaces.  North needed to fix them before moving onto his other ideas.

He made his way to the window, leaning his hands against the banister and leaning out.  The blue sky arced high above him, the final curve of a sphere.  North liked to content himself with gazing into the space.  It reminded him of his task on the world.  As he looked out over the white expanse of ice, broken by uneven ridges and sharp cliffs, he thought of the children he protected, and felt the wonder of his situation.  The responsibility he bared to protect that Wonder in the world filled him with profound joy and hope, and it reminded him of the memories he kept, and the dreams he needed for the future.  Yes, every Guardian’s task kept them knitted together.  They needed each other like how fire needed oxygen, as did water, and life itself.  But their responsibilities never became burdens.

As he leaned out further, a glint from below caught his eyes.  Curious, North bent over the ledge, looking down into the shadowed ice below.

“What are you doing?”

North nearly fell over the edge in surprise, but righted himself to turn around.  Standing in the middle of his workshop was none other than Jack.  He looked more natural as a human.  His blue hoodie frosted at the edged, freezing the ragged threads from unraveling further.  His matching eyes shone with amusement, whether at North’s flustered reaction, or at the simple joy of life itself, the Russian couldn’t tell.  A smirk flitted across his lips, welcoming North in the same way it infuriated Bunny.

“Me, I am doing nothing.  What of you?  How are you in here?

Jack smiled, and stepped aside, revealing the frosted blue flower that sprouted out of the ground.  As North watched, it became frigid, and shattered into snowflakes that disappeared into the air.

North’s eyebrows shot to his hairline, and he ran his fingers through his thick grayed beard.  “Impressive.  You kept your powers?  What of Bunny?”

Jack nodded. “Yeah, he can frost things over.  I don’t think he can fly, though, unless he has a staff or something like that.  Maybe a boomerang!” the boy laughed.

“Ah!  That is good!  Now I must make more for the others!”

Jack’s expression turned serious, and he cornered North with his gaze.  “Oh no you don’t.  You’re still on probation from extra creative expression.  You have to finish repairing your workshop, and then continue with your old blueprints until the end of the month.”

“But Jack!” cried the older man, turned into the child of the situation.

“No buts!” Jack mocked, smirking again.  North saw why it annoyed Bunny.  “Come on; come see us off.”

Laughing, the boy took North by his arm, pulling him along down the hall.  The man chuckled, following the sprite’s lead.  He took one last look behind him at the window, before taking the handle of the wooden door.  It closed with a soft click.

Far below the workshop, hidden in the ravines of the Arctic ice, light reflected off of glass once again.  Hidden in the shadows, shielded from the dangers of the world, lay Memories.  The sculpture of the Library of Memories remained unharmed, trapped within the delicate glass.  Wooden teeth clattered along the bottom, feathers drifting about playfully in the small space.  As the sun shifted, only slightly on its course, it broke past the cliffs, flooding the gorge with the warm life.

A lone snowflake fell from North’s window, one of the fragments of Jack’s flower.  It fell with the wind, spinning gently through the air.  The light refracted through it, glittering on its edges.  With the breeze, it lighted down on the globe, bouncing once before it disintegrated into crystal atoms.

The glass cracked, a fracture appearing on the pristine surface of the globe.  It opened to the world, and the North Wind entered the sphere, peering through with its chaotic dance.  Joy swept through the feathers, bristling with the thought of freedom.

The final dust of crushed enamel flew out, carried away on a peaceful breeze.  The particles climbed higher into the air, breaking over the ice cliffs.  They glittered in the newfound sunlight.  Slowly, they made their way into the distance.

The last memories of the glowing moon.

_~Fin_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, rereading through all of this and reposting it really made me think about it, and yet I still am proud of this piece. I mean, there's a ton I want to fix, but...  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it! I usually put more notes on my projects, but since this is just a transfer, there's not much left for me to say.  
> ~Renoku


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